Steel, Soul, and Spirit
by Shadow's Forge
Summary: They were created by the Terran Dominion, secret weapons forged from Zerg flesh and Terran steel. They were the ultimate war machines, unstoppable on the battlefield. They were incapable of questioning orders, the perfect soldiers. They are Cyberlisks.
1. Prologue: Approaching Storm

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Prologue: Approaching Storm**

* * *

_She rushed this way and that way, striking. Szcraa reared up, spitting a Terran marine on her scythes. The soft creature wriggled in its death throes, before sagging on its grisly support, dead._

_"I will annihilate all the enemies of the glorious Swarm!" she roared. _Wait... This is not right. I just referred to myself... What is happening?

_Suddenly her dream changed tone, with a suicidal carrier colliding with the great Overmind. The shockwave was only a momentary reprieve._

_Terran and Protoss attackers assaulted with more determination than before. She felt a bullet enter her arm, and saw hive-mates ripped to shreds from the powerful weapons. Then she entered darkness. Her mind screamed in pain, pain from memories that were not hers. The nightmares had only begun..._

_She found it strange though, that she was never at Aiur...

* * *

_

Excerpt from a Confederacy Newspaper: In laboratories today, scientists have admitted to the research into Zerg/Machine hybrids today. Further details will be issued in the next few weeks.

* * *

"I find this type of research an abomination," snarled Dr. Cassandra Govalich, geneticist of the Terran Confederacy. "First we clone and fuse these Zerg with technology we don't even fully understand, and now you want me to give them sentience? Do you know what could happen if we create intelligent Zerg?"

"Of course I know the consequences," replied master scientist Charles Thurston, frowning, "with sentience these Cyborgs can increase their efficiency!"

"Sir, I must refuse this work. It is unethical, even if we are using Zerg clones."

"You will _not_ refuse!" growled Thurston. "Especially if you want to remain an employee of Terran Confederacy, and if you want your _continued safety_!" The Terran Confederacy had a nasty habit of... _hurting_ those who did not like to cooperate.

Glaring, she returned to her lab and began her work.

* * *

Cassandra slept in a little room housed within a Terran Confederacy compound, on the world of Waj Norhal. Waj Norhal was a fringe world of the Terran Confederacy of Man, the perfect place to carry out research in relative secrecy. The lush grasslands and myriad mountains provided more than enough resources and food for the scientist and their experiments. Inevitably, for the land was very fertile, a large colonist city had sprung up to the north, with a population of at least 750,000. Of course, they were kept blissfully uninformed of the Confederacy compound's purpose. _And what they would think if they knew what was being carried out here!_ she mused.

Her mind returned to her work and to her creations-to-be. She would give them sentience, but she would add more things to give them an identity. Her creations would be much more than the previous Zerg/Mechanoid soldiers. _Which had failed_. She remembered one organic part of the cyborg rejecting the mechanical modifications and subsequently mutating into a purple glob of slime...

They would have sentience, yes, but much more than that...

Walking to her computer, she began by running a quick search for some "ideal" genetic samples. She found three pairs of what she needed. She stared, thinking how certain ethicists would call her idea twisted. _They're not twisted, it's people like _Thurston _who are twisted_. Her mind snapped back to the task on hand, and she began running formulas.

* * *

_Cassandra is up to something _thought Thurston. The attractive, dark-blond geneticist had always been one the verge of complete insubordination since he had requisitioned her "work".

In the command center of the lab, he was overseeing the grafting and integration of the Zerg parts to the mechanical devices, seeing sparks jump and IV lines feeding sedatives and nutrients to the unconscious creatures. He turned to the technician, a man who was as good a programmer as Cassandra was a geneticist.

"I want you to make a program that would block the creatures sentience," he ordered the tech. "One that can give them limited thinking and flexibility, but will suppress their ability to question orders."

"Sir, I'm not sure that is even possible..." said the tech, looking up from his computer screen.

"Make it possible," he replied turning back to viewing the grafting process. "I know Cassandra is up to no good."

* * *

So, with the barriers in place, the Cyborgs of the Terran Confederacy did not even know what they could achieve. They just executed directives, never questioning, never truly thinking... Until one woman's mercy changed them... and they in turn changed everything... forever... They would overcome shadows and death, and they would become as powerful as the stars... 


	2. Chapter 1: Units S213 and S214

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 1: Units S-213 and S-214

* * *

**

_>Initiating test run>  
>Plasma weapons charged and online>  
>Magna Needles loaded>  
>Organic Components at full capability>  
>Goliath-III Legs operational>  
>Beginning test>

* * *

_

"The units S-213 and S-214 performed with admirable skill. The mechanical plasma cannons performed superbly, and the genetically enhanced Magna Needles were equally destructive. The 'volunteers' had no chance." The death row inmates had been given an enticing deal. Destroy _two_ machines _with_ top-of-the-line Confederacy weapons, and they could go free. The three-dozen men had died in, oh, two minutes.

"Even with all their heavy weaponry, they were clearly no match for S-213 and S-214. These Cyborgs will be _very_ helpful if those Protoss and Zerg show up here again," said Thurston to "Emperor" Mengsk, the new headman, over a comm connection. Mengsk's coup against the Confederacy had paid off, and now the Terran sector was _his_. A lot had happened in the last three-and-a-half years since he had ordered Cassandra to begin the cloning and gene mixing sequences. Now, the Cyborgs were at optimal performance levels, the Zerg Overmind was dog food, the rebellious James Raynor had fled with a small chunk of the Dominion military in tow, and the Protoss were rebuilding their homeworld... and a fleet from Earth was beginning to encroach on Dominion space.

The emperor had shown interest in the lab and its creations, therefore preventing the former rebel leader from ordering the execution of former Confederacy employees. A good deal of sucking up to the new bigwig had not hurt, either.

"These... things... show promise then?" inquired the High Emperor Mengsk over the communication screen. The emperor had a dubious look. The terrorist _cum_ emperor had an _extreme_ case of pathological xenophobia. He had to tread carefully with how he handled this...

"Definitely, sir."

* * *

Cassandra exited her room, making sure the door closed quietly behind her. She silently traveled the many corridors of the research compound. She had to flash her identification to the occasional guard, but none challenged her.

She made her down the final corridor and opened the blast door leading into the holding bay where her two main creations, S-213 and S-214, a.k.a. Straas and Szcraa, stood. She looked at them and reflected on what she had done. Their organic parts looked almost like normal hydralisks, but their flesh had more purity and cleanliness; no slimy drool perpetually dripped from their mouths, nor did they have the rotten stench of the Zerg. Their armored flesh ended at about 150 centimeters down, where the double-jointed Goliath III-style legs and lower body took over. They stood about three meters high, with Straas a few fractions of a meter taller.

The Goliath III legs were constructed following a strange schematic that they had uncovered, adding a second joint on the legs, under the knee joint. The legs had a human-style knee joint, then about a meter down another joint bent backwards, then the ankle, and then finally the three-clawed foot. The legs were fashioned out of a little-known metal, which had strange properties. Other than its immense durability and strength, the metal was an unknown. The metal had been weaved with numerous sensors, so the foot would feel like real limbs to the "user". Someone with aesthetics in mind had also attached a "tail" into the Goliath III lower body, which served as a heat sink, balance gyro system, and last resort weapon.

Cassandra looked back at the organic parts, focusing on the faces. She had secretly integrated voice boxes that allowed them to talk as articulately as a human. Of course, they didn't talk with those, but with their communications equipment. Cables snaking out from a computer terminal were attached to interface nodes on the back of the Cyborgs' heads.

They were on low-power status: they knew what she was doing, but they wouldn't do anything about it, unless it was assessed as a clear threat by their computers. She walked to a computer terminal, booted it up, and began to do some "minor" programming on them, first on S-213, and then on S-214.

She had bribed Thurston's master tech to the codes for the internal systems. At first, the man had been skeptical, but had given in with a little flirting and a couple thousand credits. She really had no place to spend them, anyway. And the tech wasn't bad looking.

She glanced at their powerful weapons. Twin plasma cannons were slung over their shoulders, and their chests concealed rows of Magna Needles. The new Magna Needles had required hard work. The powerful biological weapons were basically larger hydralisk spines, but with potent bioexplosives integrated into each needle. The Cyborgs produced the bio-explosive themselves, fed with the right nutrients. The devastating Magna Needles were nearly as powerful as the 80-millimeter shells used by Terran Arclite tanks. The rest of their body was also genetically enhanced, making their claws, carapace, and even the bony frill and glossy spines, all harder than neosteel.

She had designed the scythes to be able to sharpen themselves at will with molecular rearrangement, similar to, but much more complex than, the concept of a cat's claws. The symbiotic nanotechnology could sharpen their scythes, or dull them. Perhaps the most distinguishing feature located on the arms, however, was the fact that the Cyborgs had a quartet of fingers, complete with opposable "thumbs". The scythes were kept in recesses over the Cyborgs' wrists. The molecular rearrangement allowed the blades to retract from 0.1 meters to 1.2 meters.

She looked a little closer, gazing at the two. Straas was significantly bigger than Szcraa; Cassandra had impulsively made Straas male, and Szcraa female. That took a lot of work, since the Zerg were initially genderless. Straas' organic parts were colored a deep red, while Szcraa was colored an orange-brown, while their bellies were a paler beige. The metallic gray of the Goliath-III legs clashed with the drab colors.

_Oh, how the ethicists must be turning in their graves!_

Then Cassandra looked at Szcraa's head, glancing at the numerous sensors and input nodes placed there. Over the left eye was a neural targeting system, which let the Cyborgs track targets merely by sight. The targeting apparatus could fold up and over when not in use. She sighed and continued typing. Then she stopped.

She stared down at the glowing screen, with it rows and columns of alphabetical figures and numbers. She needed to make her programming inconspicuous, so that her patches would activate at the right time, without a chance of detection before that. The triggers that would activate them would be more than a simple clock. No, she needed something that proved that her creations could make use of their abilities in the _right_ way. She came upon an idea, and nearly discarded it. It seemed too... arrogant, _unright_, to make a trigger based on it. But she did it anyway. She resumed typing again.

She finished her programming, and then left, quietly leaving the two Cyborgs behind.

* * *

News Excerpt: After a massive armed rebellion on the world of Westgate caused severe Dominion casualties, the military high command has decided to send in the special undisclosed weapons, which were believed to be first "manufactured" four years ago. The specialized constructs should be the key to stopping the rebellion. More news as events unfold.

* * *

_S-213 ducked, a high-explosive round sailing over his head. A clean miss. He opened his chest, and Magna Needles blew the cannon emplacement to smoking pieces. A small squadron of friendly Wraiths flew overhead, beginning their attack runs. Unit S-214 acknowledged them, and provided air cover by scattering the clustered enemy Valkyrie frigates with her plasma cannons. The Wraiths took out the remaining tanks that had dug in, hull-down. As the cannons fell silent, he and his partner, S-214, charged the enemy bunkers, pummeling them with Needles and cannon. The troops inside tried to flee once their shelters cracked like dropped eggs, but he and S-214 butchered them before they could even take ten steps._

_Two enemy bases lay to the north and south; they would have to split up. S-214 took the airbase in the north, and S-213 took the encampment to the south.

* * *

_

_S-214 crept in the shadows, sneaking up on the airbase. The sensors did not detect her. She deployed her neural targeting system. _

_A loud explosion and firing attracted the attention of the enemy troops. Seeing the perfect opportunity, she leaped out of hiding, her cannons and Magna Needles firing madly. Dozens of enemy soldiers were cut down in the first few seconds of the firestorm. Bullets began to shoot her way, many spanging off her armor, others missed as she dodged madly. She lashed back at the defenders with a deluge of Magna Needles and plasma bolts._

_After dispatching the defenders immediately around her, she spied the rebels' single battlecruiser doing its best to get off the ground and brings its many laser turrets to bear, but she quickly destroyed it with multiple bursts from her plasma cannons to the engine area. Unable to stay aloft, the capital starship crashed into the bloody ground and exploded. The rebel forces directly under the falling behemoth were squashed like insects._

_The remaining forces were fleeing, and she gave chase. Suddenly, as she rounded a corner of a small hill, she was confronted by dozens of tanks, which all began to fire at her. The tanks were absolutely too close for them to miss her, speed or no. Her plasma cannons went into action, smashing six of the old version armored vehicles. But there were too many to take out before they fired. Explosive shells slammed into her, knocking her off-balance. Regaining her stability, she leaped, and landed on one the tanks. Her scythes slashed down, opening up the tank like a can. A burst of Needles into the interior compartment combusted the ammunition, and the armored vehicle exploded. She leapt off just as the turret flipped upward into the air from the force of the detonation. She continued this strategy, until only twelve tanks remained._

_She managed to kill all of them, but not before they had damaged her to the point of immobility. The remaining forces began to rally to this point, bringing more and more weapons to bear. She sent a distress beacon to Unit S-213...

* * *

_

_S-213 received the distress beacon just moments before he was going to fire at the main factory. At first, his programming told him to ignore the imminent-danger class V beacon, but suddenly something else took hold. _He thought... amazing. He had never felt this way before. But suddenly, the feeling left him._ Growling, he destroyed the factory and ran off to aid his partner._

_S-214 did not know how much longer she could last. She had suffered severe damage, and her auto-repair systems simply could not keep up with the mounting damage. Still she fought on._

_Suddenly the enemy lines broke, scattering. Plasma and Needles followed them out. A large group of fleeing soldiers was struck down by the outgoing weapons blasts. Then the other Cyborg picked her up in his arms, his scythes molecularly unsharpened and retracted, and tromped off to the waiting dropship.

* * *

_

"The Cyborgs have performed well, Emperor. Records show that in battle, their reactions are one-tenth of that of a man. And, they were clocked a nearly 90 KPH at full battle reflex. Also, S-214 has been fully repaired. The damage was far lighter than we had suspected," said Thurston to Mengsk over the commlink, two weeks after the rebellion on Westgate had been crushed. The rebels had thrown down their arms after their stunning defeat at the hands of the two Cyborgs. Their hanged bodies were still swinging on the formal rebel world.

"I was reviewing the tapes and mission logs," said Mengsk in his oily politician's voice, "and I noticed that S-213 paused before destroying the factory. And the timing was exactly when S-213 received S-214's distress call. I thought these Cyborgs were incapable of thought, with the encoding _you_ said you integrated into them, but it seemed to fail. S-213 had its orders to destroy all enemy forces before all else, even before rescuing a 'comrade'. Remember Thurston, I do _not _like failures ."

Thurston's heart skipped a few beats. The he did his best to appear confident, and replied.

"Yes sir! I will follow this up immediately, sir!"

"You had better."

Thurston looked at the security cameras in his office.

After the near-disaster with Mengsk, he had activated the special cameras that he himself had placed there after returning to his office. The normal security cameras sometimes seemed to develop static at certain nights, which had prompted him to seed some extras in the lab. Movement caught his eye.

Cassandra Golavich entered the bay, looked around, and began some type of programming on the Cyborgs.

"Hah hah. I have you now, you little... I do _not _like traitors," growled Thurston.

He got up, took out a needle pistol, and walked down to the holding bay.


	3. Chapter 2: Breakaway

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 2: Breakaway

* * *

**

Cassandra jumped in shock when she heard the door to the bay cycle open. Normally, she had used a specially designed lockout program to keep it from opening immediately. She spied the figure of Charles Thurston entering the bay. In the dark, he probably would not see her clearly. She quickly finished her final encoding and threw the copies into an incinerator bin. Just in time.

"Hello Cassandra."

"Good evening sir! I was just checking on the Cy—"

"Checking nothing you traitor. I've seen you with your programming. That is one thing you never do. You disobey, and you make me look bad to Mengsk. You got this coming."

Raising his arm, he shot her once in the chest. She collapsed in a heap to the ground. It felt so warm...

Some preachers had told her that your whole life flashed before you. Not true for her. What ran through her mind were only the few months that had first begun with the engineering of the organic Zerg, her decision to rebel against Thurston, and her dubious-at-best decision to use _emotions_ to trigger the switches. Maybe she was getting what she deserved...

As she lay bleeding on the floor, she whispered to Straas and Szcraa "Don't let the take away your free will or your souls! Don't..." Then blackness came.

* * *

Something happened. Switches and codes fell into place, and the barrier software holding captive their minds fell away. S-213—no _Straas—_was free of his mental bondage. He glanced over and saw S-214—no _Szcraa—_shudder with newfound freedom. Straas stared down at Doctor Govalich, bleeding dead on the floor so that they might gain freedom... They turned toward Thurston, the murderer's needle pistol still smoking...

* * *

"Heh heh heh," chuckled Thurston cruelly. "So, that's what you get." He looked out of the corner of his eyes. He saw the two Cyborgs move.

"This is an override code Cyborgs! Return to your places! Code Alpha-Delta-Tango-Bravo!" The damned geneticist had probably nulled the will-suppressing software he had had installed on them. No matter. The override codes were even more deeply implanted than the will-suppressor.

"No," replied S-213.

"What the hell! You can't talk!" he yelped out in shocked surprise.

"It appears he can, as can I," said the other Cyborg, S-214.

"And now, master scientist Thurston, you had this coming..." snarled S-213.

"Noooooooo!" he screamed, raising his needle pistol in defense. His hand scrambled for the remote alarm control.

His scream was reduced to a wet gargle, as S-214's scythe cut his throat open.

As his vision faded to red, then black, Charles Thurston regretted ever being born.

* * *

It felt magnificent. The thought-prohibiting software had been erased, and Straas and Szcraa were "themselves". They had the minds equal to the most intelligent Terrans, and they had free will. A high, keening wail filled the air. The body of Thurston gushed blood on the floor. In his hand lay a device, most likely a remote alarm.

"It seems he has tripped an alarm. The whole Terran Dominion forces will soon be after us," said Szcraa.

"Then let us make an exit," replied Straas. Turning, he lowered the plasma cannons into firing position and blew hole in the holding bay. They stomped through the hole, and began to flee the compound.

As he and Szcraa fled from the research facility, the two Cyborgs began to chat over their comm system.

>We are now fugitives, Szcraa.>

>Indeed.>

>Szcraa, I am glad you have made a full recover after the events on Westgate.>

>Yes. I am glad too. Also, if it were not for you, I would not be here.>

They fled over hills and dunes, passing native scantids that were foraging for food. The insectoid creatures turned and watched the two Cyborgs thundered away.

Straas, I have been wondering if we can survive without the Dominion's help out here in the wilderness.

>Yes, however—Szcraa! Watch out!> he yelled, detecting a row of spines breaking the surface of the ground and bearing toward her. Szcraa rolled left, and the spines missed her by inches, shooting up into the air. As his CPU blazed through information, his databases shot out an answer at him.

_Lurkers_!

He activated his sensors, all the while dodging the spines. He detected at least three burrowed lurkers, launching subterranean spines. He opened his chest and fired a burst of Magna Needles at the now unhidden Zerg.

His datafiles told him that Zerg would fight to the death, not caring of bodily damage. They only had one thing in mind: a mission to fight to the death to defend the Swarm, above all else. The ground belched meaty chunks as the Magna Needles exploded. The Zerg creatures were utterly destroyed. He sighed; he had wanted to see the Zerg lurkers, which he curiously had no visual files on. Suddenly, his sensors detected another force moving in from the west. He also heard human screams coming from the same direction. Telling his find to his counterpart, they charged of to the west.

* * *

Upon reaching the scene of the screams, Szcraa noticed a Terran body part on the ground. She glanced at the disembodied foot as she blurred past it at full speed. A strange, fungus-like substance was crunching underfoot. She examined the ground, and found the organic Zerg creep on the ground, pulsing, contracting, and leeching nutrients and minerals from the soil. Zerg were nearby. Straas glanced at her and warned her.

"Szcraa, I am detecting Zerg forces coming this way. It appears that the group includes zerglings and ultralisks," he said, using his mouth to speak.

"I detected them too. There are enough of them to give us a trouble," she replied, using her voice box.

"Perhaps it would be better to meet them, giving us the advantage," suggested Straas.

"Excellent idea. Let us go give them a surprise," she said, as they raced off to meet the Zerg force.

* * *

Straas noticed that a group of ultralisks were carrying struggling packages. He zoomed his vision closer, and saw that the packages were humans. He ducked back onto the ledge, which overhung the valley which the Zerg were traveling through.

"We must free those humans, Sczraa," he told the female.

"We cannot use any of our weapons, except our scythes, otherwise we may harm the humans," Szcraa replied.

"My claw-to-claw combat is well, yours?"

"Mine is fine Straas."

"It's going—"

"Straas!"

"Yes?" he said, puzzled.

"You just used a Terran-style contraction. This is first time one of us has used one."

"So?"

"Stop that, you are starting to sound like a Terran..."

"I don't know, I began to feel strange as soon as we left the military base."

"Me too. It's very—" she stopped, catching herself using a "Terran-style contraction".

"It appears our thought processes are becoming more Terran-like the longer we are free," said Straas.

"It does not seem to hinder my performance, and it is somehow more natural for me..." Szcraa said.

"As it is for me... Look! The Zerg approach." Straas ducked, his counterpart concealing herself behind a large boulder. He looked into the sky, and spied a Zerg overlord hovering close by, guiding the Zerg force. If he could take it out, the Zerg would be in confusion for a few seconds.

He deployed his plasma cannons, then stopped before he fired. The plummeting, flaming overlord might kill a human when it slammed into the ground. He had a different idea. Straas opened a channel to the other Cyborg.

"Szcraa, I have an idea to take out that overlord. I'm going to need you to..." he explained his plan.

"Hmmmm... Seems dangerous. Be careful, being the only Cyborg will be quite difficult," said Szcraa.

"Strange, it sounds like you are confessing an affection to me..."

"No I am not. I'm merely stating concern for a comrade and friend," she shot back quickly.

With that, Szcraa moved into position.

* * *

Szcraa didn't want to admit it, but she didn't want Straas to get injured. He was the only Cyborg who was like herself, and she did not want to live the rest of her life without anyone like him. And she still owed him her life.

She was determined to do her part of the plan correctly, so to safeguard her friend and partner from serious injury. She searched for a boulder, and found one she could easily lift. She waited for the signal from Straas.

>Now!> he yelled over the comm.

She hurled the boulder a few meters in front of the lead ultralisk, flattening a few small zerglings. The dog-sized aliens swung around, and nimbly began to dart up the ledge to get her, claws scrabbling on the loose dirt and rock. She ducked into a cave and stood still, hiding. The overlord, angling to reveal her in the dark cave, positioned itself exactly where Straas wanted it. Straas launched himself into the air, his powerful Goliath-III legs giving more than enough force to reach the overlord, which was hovering only ten meters above the ground. The male Cyborg landed on the overlord's back, and began to savagely hack it apart with his extended scythes. She held her breath as Straas shifted his weight and forced its falling bulk away from the Zerg forces. As the overlord died and dropped to the ground in tatters, the Zerg it was shepherding froze momentarily, allowing Straas to land. Seeing all going to plan, she dashed forward. The Zerg snapped out of their torpor as their Cerebrate took direct control of them. Then the real fighting began...

* * *

Straas dodged an ultralisk's Kaiser blade, it's mono-molecular edge missing him by a hair. He struck back, blinding it. Roaring in agony, the titanic creature swung out, missed, and took a scythe directly into its face. Leaping onto the dead ultralisk's back, he grabbed the ensnared human, and leaped to a safe distance with the captives. He saw Szcraa being circled by dozens of zerglings, which were making ineffectual swipes at her feet. She waited for the right moment, then lashed out with her three-clawed feet, crunching and smashing the zerglings.

Szcraa tossed her two humans to Straas, who caught them and deposited them in a cave, all the while whirling to avoid another Kaiser blade. He was amazed by Szcraa's graceful, lithe speed, and was shocked out of the sight when two Kaiser blades came swinging down toward him. He looked up and moved his right arm scythe to block both blades, straining. His left scythe then neatly decapitated it as he spun. The horned head bounced a few meters along the ground.

Soon, all the Zerg were slaughtered, and the humans were safe in a cave. He strode back to the cave and immediately the humans began to scream. Sighing, he slashed their bindings and freed them. The humans drew together in a close group and began to whimper even louder.

"I will not hurt you," he said.

"No! No! He's going to eat us!" screamed one of the humans.

He took a closer look, and saw that all five of the humans seemed young, estimated at around ten or eleven. Maybe his "human talk" would come in handy now.

"No, no. I'm not going to eat you."

"Liar! You killed our parents. We saw you! The same shaped head and everythin'!" The human children were way beyond the threshold of shock.

"What? I was never here and..." he trailed off, completely confused. Perhaps these children were so distraught over their parent's death, that they had hallucinated him killing the parents.

"Nononono! They're gonna eat us! Him and the other guy out there—" They screamed.

"Szcraa isn't a 'guy'. She is female," Straas huffed. He was getting really annoyed.

"But we saw you—"

"No you didn't Ken! The ones that killed our mommies and daddies had no legs! This one does! Stop being mean to the nice monster!" yelled one of the other children, an older girl. She seemed to be calming herself, even if her eyes still held a haunted look. Straas sighed.

Ken got quiet after that. Straas instructed them to get up and get ready for a long walk. After a mile, Ken began to complain that he was tired, but Szcraa offered to carry them. While she said this, she gave him a look. He exhaled with a huff, and nodded. Szcraa ended up taking two, and he took the remaining three. The five travelers were in still in great shock, though they seemed to be recovering. But Straas still didn't get why Ken mistook him for a Zerg. The Zerg looked nothing like him... or did they? He remembered that he had no visual files on lurkers or hydralisks. But they couldn't look like him... could they? How could utterly savage, evil creatures bear a resemblance to him? He pondered this as they walked on.

* * *

Szcraa sighed in relief as she lowered her riders on he ground, half a kilometer or so from a Dominion base. Her riders, Charley and Lena, had been scrabbling around on her back, and she had to catch Lena twice to keep her from falling. The children seemed to be recovering from the shock a little, but only since she and Straas had kept them distracted. The occasional low-powered shot from a plasma cannon seemed to do the trick.

"Hey!" It was Ken. "I'm sorry that I called you that." The young boy smiled thinly.

"It is forgivable," replied Straas. "You've been though a lot."

"I know." A pause. "What's yur guys' name?"

"Her name is Szcraa. I am Straas," said the other Cyborg.

"Oh, okay." He said, smiling weakly. His expression shifted to one of horror when something landed on her back, and she staggered. She flipped the thing over her shoulder and looked down at a mirror. She was staring at her own face, it seemed.

The thing on the ground tried to slash her face, hissing in malevolence. Straas was staring at the monster in horror. Szcraa screamed and stomped it into the ground. The ground popped open and disgorged more of the snakelike creatures. The other ones opened up their chest and revealed rows of hidden spines. Just like her Magna Needles...

The things fired off the spines. They might have been raindrops to her armor.

Szcraa roared in anger and blew the creatures away with her plasma cannons as the creatures readied themselves to fire again. She looked at her partner; Straas had not moved an inch from where he stood.

"What's wrong Straas?' she questioned, not caring if she used a contraction. They were coming out unbidden, anyhow.

"Those," he stammered, "those are hydralisks."

She looked down at the smoking remains of the creatures. She recoiled in disgust. Indeed the hydralisks possessed similar features to that of herself and Straas.

"I've always thought that we were different from the Zerg... Look at this... this... thing on the ground. It is a Zerg, all madness and evil, and we look like them! Our blood is _based_ on them!"

"No no! you guys are completely different from these things. You guys can talk, and yur nice, and yur bigger, and, and, and yur not bad like them!" said Ken. The young Terrans were trying to help...

Straas looked at her at Ken's words, and staggered over to her. Still looking shocked, he leaned on her. She shivered a bit; this was their only other physical contact since the rescue on Westgate. She moved her arm and wrapped it around his shoulder, not caring if this was a human gesture of comfort. After a few moments, Straas turned his head to look at her. His eyes had changed somehow. They looked haunted.

"I'm fine now," he said in a trembling, quiet voice.

"Good," she whispered back, taking her arm off his shoulder.

"Now, you five," she said, addressing the children," we want you to go to that base over there, and tell them the Zerg got... got your mommies and daddies. Clear?"

"Yeah... But...but what can we sa...say rescued us?" Ken stammered. Despite their seeming recovery, they would need top-notch treatment, physical as well as psychological.

"Cyborgs," she said absentmindedly.

"No," said Straas quietly, "no, we are not Cyborgs, as the Dominion says, nor are we hydralisks of the Zerg. No. Tell them... tell them Cyberlisks are what rescued you. _Cyberlisks_."


	4. Chapter 3: Cyberlisks

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 3: Cyberlisks**

* * *

Straas awoke in the morning, after dozing of in the cave they had used. Weeks had passed after the battle and rescue of the human children. 

Szcraa lay curled up on her side, occasionally twitching. Straas looked down at her. He needed to get away for a few minutes. He went outside, and began to hunt. While their mechanical parts had near infinite power from state of the art fusion generators, their organic parts still had to eat for nourishment and material for their Magna Needles. The lush grasslands could handle that problem easily.

In the grasslands that were the majority of Waj Norhal, he stalked, looking for prey. All the while he was replaying the scene from last week in his mind.

Hydralisk. Cyberlisk.

Spotting potential a quarry, he crept up on a native rhynadon, pounced, and killed it with a slash of his scythes. He let the blood drain out of the body cavity before heaving up the two-ton carcass and carrying it back to the cave. Szcraa was already up and walking about, stretching her legs. She looked back at the game he had brought back, and took a portion of the meat. She sat down, opened her hydralisk-like mouth, and began to eat. He looked down at his food and ate too.

Hyrdalisk. Cyberlisk.

He was turned away and was eating in silence. His mind could not seem to stop playing the encounter with the _Zerg_ hydralisks.

Hydralisk. Cyberlisk.

He could not bring himself to look into Szcraa's eyes. He was not sickened by his partner Szcraa, whom he now considered a close friend, but of himself, for he saw a half-Zerg, half-machine monstrosity. When he saw Szcraa, he saw himself, and when he saw himself, he saw evil and savagery...

Hydralisk. Cyberlisk

"Straas, you are hurt," said Szcraa. "Over there, on your shoulder."

He glanced at his shoulder. A large, red cut was there. Apparently the acidic needle had prevented his repair systems from healing it immediately.

"I'm fine, Szcraa," he answered back.

"Are you sure you are unhurt? The shoulder wound looks bad," she probed.

Szcraa got up and strode over to where he sat. She reached out to get a better look at the needle wound. He hissed, shrugging off her touch, and got up abruptly. He walked over to the entrance of the cave and stood there, not facing her. He was still in pain. The wound did hurt, but he didn't want Szcraa to come closer.

"I said I am _fine_," he hissed, hurt and pain in his voice.

Hydralisk. Cyberlisk.

* * *

Szcraa could not figure out what was wrong with him. He had never turned and walked away from her. There was something in the way he spoke that scared her. It sounded like disgust, or rage at himself. She decided that she would talk to him about that later. Right now, she had better check up on the Dominion military. 

Sighing, she used her comm interface to hack into the Dominion military network and scan for anything interesting. She found out that the Dominion that was only mounting a half-heated search for them. Wondering why, she accessed more files, looking for the most recent ones. She gasped in surprise. Protoss ships had just entered the planetary system, and had dropped off a large force of troops planetside. The location of the Protoss encampment was about two hundred kilometers away. The Dominion was in a standoff, letting the aliens do what they wanted. Normally, the Dominion troops _should_ have assaulted the aliens immediately, but Mengsk's power and influence here was less than the vaunted terrorist's claims. Even the upper echelon commanders were not too fond of Mengsk, unless the Dominion Emperor had ordered them to keep secrets from him.

Suddenly, she picked up a broadband message coming from a Dominion city.

"_Anyone out there_! _We are getting hit my masses of Zerg! We need help_.

_We have hours at best_! _Anyone_..." The message looped.

She looked at her comrade. He looked as if he had not even detected the plea for help. He just stood there, gazing out onto the fields. "Straas, we have to aid the Dominion. They are getting assaulted hard by Zerg," she said.

Straas said nothing.

"Are you condemning all humans for the offenses of one? Do you want young people like Ken and Lena and Charley to die?"

Straas looked up from the floor. Still not facing her, he said softly, "No I will not let others die for another's misdeeds."

Szcraa realized what a personal sacrifice he had just made. She gave him a little touch on his shoulder. The she twisted around and charged for the stricken city, Straas right behind her.

* * *

The city was decimated. Hasty barricades had been set up to impede the masses of Zerg, but the citizens and soldiers were losing men as the days progressed, while the Zerg could expend as many of their warriors as the Brood's Cerebrate dictated. 

Lieutenant Stanton Hunter hefted his C-10 canister rifle, moving off to the bunkers. He did his best to stay away from other people, being a psi-gifted Ghost. _It gets annoying when you know just about everything about anyone you talk to, at least what they're thinking at the moment_... A few hours ago he had discovered a large, fairly ugly, female marine had developed a crush on him. He steered away from her from then on. Reading minds sucked in some situations.

He walked to a bunker in the west part of the city, and entered it, finding two marines and a flamethrower-armed firebat already there. "And I was saying..." said one of the marines, who stopped when Hunter entered the bunker.

"Yeah, you fought off a whole pack of Zerg? Right. All you actually fought off were six squirming larvae... oh wait, one was an egg," remarked Stanton, reading the mind of the marine.

"Stupid psychic," muttered the marine as the other soldiers broke down into laughter. Hunter could sense that the marine took the jab well. Of course, mind reading didn't suck _all_ the time. Still...

"At ease, corporal. Remember who're your talkin' to."

"Sir. Yes sir! My apologies, sir."

There was still some insolence in the back of the man's mind, but he was used to it. Not many people liked Ghosts.

Hunter was about to retort back when the sensors detected a wave of Zerg advancing on their set of bunkers. _Ha_. _some more trophies_.

He sent a warning to other troops in the area, warning them of the attack. The rifle troops set their gauss rifles to the firing slots, while the firebat kneeled, allowing the marines to fire over him. Hunter raised his canister rifle to his shoulder, peered through the scope, and began to fire. Using the special sniper-configured C-10 canister rifle, he picked off dozens of zerglings that were skittering towards the men. He prided himself in being the _best_ sniper there was on this backwater world. One shot, one less zergling.

Too bad there were dozens more to spare...

* * *

"This is getting real old, real fast," Stanton Hunter muttered to himself the next day. He rubbed his head, feeling his bristly red hair. It was beginning to gray along his temples. Premature aging was just a normality of being a Ghost. 

But so was premature death.

Another wave of zerglings assaulted the bunkers, and were dispatched quickly from the fire coming from the marines and firebats in the other pillboxes. He and the troops in the bunker complex were keeping awake on stimpacks and piss-tasting coffee.

He saw a golden opportunity. A group of twitching zerglings was just out of rifle range, but they were all nicely grouped together...

"I'll be right back," he told the marines, and exited the bunker. He cloaked, immediately feeling the exhaustion of last night's battle. The psi-consuming cloaking field made it worse.

He faded from the marines view, and sprinted to where the large group of zerglings had gathered. Making sure there were no detecting overlords, he pulled a demolition charge from his belt, clamped on a detonator, programmed it, and tossed it right in the middle of the crowd. He sprinted back to the bunker, and dived in. There was a deafening explosion as the C-50 exploded. A rain of zergling parts and ichors began to splatter on the bunker.

"Yee-hah. Feel that go up your tails, you bug-eyed lizards!" crowed the huge firebat. The other two troopers voiced similar taunts. Suddenly the alarms began to sound, detecting Zerg forces.

"Oh my God..." gasped Hunter. There were at least five hundred creatures converging on their position. There was no way the five bunkers could hold off plus five hundred aliens.

The skittering horrors came into view, racing toward the bunkers and the city. Swearing, he began to snipe at the attackers, wiping out dozens with precision aim. Then the marines began to spray fire when the attackers reached about 300 meters, and then the firebats added their fiery punch at close range.

Then the Zerg were upon them. The troops defended viciously, but the Zerg attacked just as hard. One bunker crumbled under the relentless assault of the zerglings and hydralisks. Those troops, without the reinforced concrete and hardened neosteel protecting them, were quickly butchered by the savage creatures.

Soon his was the only bunker left, and it was crumbling in sections. Overhead, a flight of mutalisks, was streaking toward the bunker, intent on discharging their symbiotic weapons on the offending mound of neosteel and concrete.

Suddenly, the mutalisks exploded into meaty tatters, several plasma bolts ripping them to shreds. Looking back, he saw the Cyborgs that the Dominion military had been searching for. _Why had they come back to aid the city_? At the moment he didn't care though, because the Zerg had turned their attention to the Cyborgs. The larger, more muscular one was concentrating his attack on the hydralisks, savagely slaughtering them. The smaller, more agile one, was dancing around the zerglings and stomping and slicing them, though with less bestial viciousness than her partner. The large one seemed to _hate _hydralisks. Hunter thought that was strange, considering that the two Cyborgs' upper halves resembled the spine-shooting Zerg. No matter.

Seeing the Cyborgs engaging the enemy, he got out of the bunker, cloaked, felt the fatigue, and began to assist the two.

* * *

Straas screamed in fury. There were hydralisks here... and whenever he saw hydralisks, he remembered he himself was a Zerg, and that he was one of them, a beast, a monster. Innards flew as he tore the serpentine creatures into minuscule bits. 

Hydralisk. Cyberlisk.

He roared and launched Magna Needles at the oncoming tide of flesh, and blew the Zerg to bloody fragments. Whirling around, he beheaded a hydralisk that had been ready to leap onto his back. Snarling, he turned to see another serpentine Zerg leap, its armored body flying towards his face. Before it could reach him, however, he heard the sound of a C-10 canister rifle firing, followed by a shower of brains from the popped cobra head. The shot neutralized the Zerg's momentum, and it hung in the air for a second before tumbling into the earth. Hissing, he activated sensors, and saw the cloaked Terran Ghost, sniping from a distance, already accounting for ten Zerg deaths. Their numbers severely depleted, the Zerg retreated, for the moment. Szcraa walked over to the sniper.

* * *

Szcraa was still energized from all the adrenaline in her system, but not too energized to notice that Straas had retreated and was standing alone facing away from her again. It genuinely pained her to see him in so much pain, but if she got near him to comfort him, he just shrugged angrily and moved away. She turned back to the Ghost trooper, and asked him what the immediate situation was. 

"What the hell!" shouted the redheaded Ghost, blanching and jumping back. Szcraa was not surprised. No one knew that they could talk; many assumed that there were mindless automatons, like regular Zerg warriors fitted with high-tech equipment. Of course, they had been, until Govalich had done some "programming" on them.

She felt her head being "scanned" by the psychic Ghost, and felt him recoil from the memory of her killing of Thurston. He also was surprised at something else...

"You're a female? Well yeah, I could sorta tell by the voice. But..." He twisted his head around, pointing his thumb at Straas. "And he's male! I thought Zerg were genderless—" He stopped as Straas twisted, charged, and lifted Hunter by his armor, his scythes retracted.

"Never, _ever _compare me to a Zerg, you _human_." He spat the word "human"like a curse. Szcraa looked at her partner, who was still avoiding her gaze. He was beginning to scare her.

>Straas, stop it!> she yelled at him over the comm. Straas glared at the trooper, shook the Ghost once more, then dropped him on the floor. Growling softly, he then returned to his earlier spot, peering out onto the battlefield, his emotions hidden. The Ghost gingerly picked himself off the floor. Szcraa noticed that several tiny furrows had been left in the Ghost armor by Straas' claws.

She clicked her mandibles and turned again to the Ghost.

"What's your guys' names?" inquired the Ghost first.

"I was going to ask you the same. My name is Szcraa, and his name is Straas," she said, gesturing to the lone Cyberlisk. "We are Cyberlisks."

The Ghost snorted. "I was expecting somethin' like a number. Well, my name is Stanton Hunter, First Lieutenant of the Dominion Army," said the Ghost.

She frowned a little, and opened up her long-range comm equipment. She hacked into the Dominion personnel files. And called up the file on Hunter, Stanton.

Nothing... except a series of characters and numbers: 65-8864-COVOP-STNHNTR-439. Most likely an ID code of some sort. She closed the comm link.

She looked back at Straas.

"He hasn't been the same since yesterday. He was decimated when he found he was genetically linked to Zerg. He first found out when he encountered hydralisks, which he did not have visual file on," she explained to Hunter. She then stopped. _Why am I telling this to a complete stranger_?

"That makes three that the Dominion has messed with," growled the Ghost. He seemed to have developed a faraway look, as if reminiscing about something in the past.

She didn't pursue what he meant by that

She detected a transmission from another part of the city. "It seems the attack here was only a minor attack; the real fighting is over to the west. Jump on my back, we'll be faster that way." Hunter clambered up onto her back, and she rushed off toward the battle.

* * *

Hunter was amazed at how fast the Cyborg could move. The legs looked ponderous at first, but that assumption was refuted when he found himself moving at over 95 KPH. 

"Drop me off here," he told Szcraa, and dropped off her back. He cloaked, feeling the familiar exhaustion, and ran to the entrance of he city, slaughtering any Zerg in his way. When he arrived at the battle at the main gate, he found the fleet-footed Szcraa already engaging the enemy, lithely dodging, striking, and firing. A battalion of marines, firebats, Goliaths, tanks, and Vultures were rallying alongside her. A litter of dismembered parts lay in a circle around her, victims of her hard, sharp scythes. Blasted corpses stood testament to the power of the Magna Needles and plasma cannons. Hunter charged into the fray, drawing his knife and sidearm, a small but powerful 10-millimeter needle pistol. His C-10 rifle had run out of rifle ammunition ages ago. And electronic-inhibiting lockdown rounds might as well be pebbles to organic Zerg.

He gutted, shot, beheaded, and punctured dozens of enemies, watching them wither and die. Soon, he was down to his last seven shots.

Suddenly, he heard shouts coming from his right. A large building was on fire, and he heard children screaming for help. Swearing, he sprinted off to the apartment; Szcraa and the other Dominion troops could hold of the Zerg for now. He charged up the smoldering stairs, placing his breathing mask on his face to protect from the smoke. He retrieved two of the coughing children and brought them downstairs. He set them down outside and told them to run to a bunker. The two kids took off for the pillbox.

He heard more screams. He turned to the building, but was met face-to-face with a hydralisk and three zerglings. The Zerg hissed, and began to slither and hop toward them. He stole a glance upward and saw an overlord, which was revealing him.

Cloaking was useless.

He looked back and saw that the building was being consumed even faster. But if the Zerg got through him, the children in the building would all surely die.

Yelling savagely, he charged the hyrdralisk. The zerglings were converging from the sides, chittering for blood. The hydralisk reared up, and sprayed a volley of spine toward him. He dodged left, but he took a spine in his right arm. The acid-coated spine _burned_.

"Damn you, you ugly mother!" he screamed at the hydralisk.

He brought up his pistol, and shot two of the zerglings in the head. Before he could shift his aim, the third one leaped on top of him, striking. Claws penetrated his abdominal armor, and he felt pain shoot through him as claws ripped into his stomach. Finally he fought it off, and jabbed his knife through its eye. The dog-sized alien convulsed, went limp, and sagged off him. Holding his wound closed to prevent his guts from spilling out, he jumped back to his feet and turned to the hydralisk, which was rearing to fire. He rushed it, knife extended. The hydralisk fired, giving Hunter a full six spines in his already shredded armor.

He knew that he would die, but damn him if he didn't take down the Zerg with him. He rushed it, ignoring the agony, and rammed his knife into is face. As the wounded Zerg tried to back away, he jammed his pistol into its mouth and emptied his last five shots into its brain. The creature shuddered and fell twitching to the ground, most of its head gone.

"See you in hell, ya bastard," he muttered at the hydralisk corpse. Then he stumbled.

He felt the last of his strength go, and he slumped to the ground. Saving damn kids, and look what it got him...

Curiously, he felt... triumphant. Like he had died for something worth dying for.

He sent a message to Szcraa.

"Szcraa, there are kids in the flaming building here. Hurry... get... them." Then darkness pulled him down.

* * *

Szcraa saw the lines break, and roared in victory as the Zerg turned back and fled. Then she got the message from Hunter 

"Szcraa, there are kids in the flaming building here. Hurry...get...them..." His voice trailed off, but Szcraa was already hurtling to the source of the transmission. She found the burning building, with Hunter and four Zerg dead around him. She felt sorrow, but then looked up. She hoped the burning building would hold her weight. She jumped, and dug her claws into to the building "Hurry!" she yelled into the smoke. "Get on my back." She thought a moment. "I'm... a... a... a nice monster," she added. The children, already shocked by the battle, obeyed without question. She felt five children climb on her back, and she dropped down onto the ground. The children clambered of, and she told them to go the nearest bunker. The kids took off running. Then she heard a sound that made her blood run cold. She whirled around and saw the burning five-story building toppling onto her. She couldn't get away in time...

* * *

He had not moved from his spot where he had manhandled Hunter. He was too deep in his self-loathing 

Straas heard the distress call and at first ignored it. _I'm just a Zerg_, he told himself.

Hydralisk. Cyberlisk.

_Just a cruel vicious Zerg who cares nothing for friends and comrades_. Looking off to the west, he saw the flashes and explosions of battle. Changing his mind, he got up and ran toward the battle, consoling himself with the though that he might kill a few additional hydralisks there.

* * *

Szcraa dodged, but not fast enough. The flaming structure fell on her, pinning her to the ground. She struggled to free herself, but to no avail; the building caught her legs and part of her lower torso. 

She sent a distress signal to Straas. Her mechanical legs struggled, but she desisted when she felt her left ankle joint snap. Hissing in pain, she wondered when Straas would show up. If he did at all...

* * *

Straas found the spot when were Szcraa laid pinned under the burning building. Doing his best not to look at her, he began to lift the smoking wreckage off of her. He freed her, little by little. Grunting, he lifted a 30-foot slab of solid steel off of her, and finally she was freed. Szcraa got to her feet, clumsily limping. He glanced at her foot, which was already repairing itself, and peered off to the horizon. He gaped at the hoards of horrors. Tens of thousands of Zerg were approaching the city on the ground, while thousands more flew in the sky. There was no way they could handle it, even with the Dominion's help. Also, Szcraa's leg was not to full repair. "Szcraa, get out of here. I'll hold them off," he told her, his back turned. 

"No. I will not leave you," she answered to his back.

"Why not? I'm only a Zerg, an evil Zerg."

"Straas. You are not a Zerg! Stop thinking that!" Szcraa sounded angry.

"Why not? I—" He was cut off as Szcraa spun him around struck him full on the face with a hand, her scythe retracted. His eyes flew open in surprise. She then grabbed his head and angled it to look her eye-to-eye. He fought, but he was too shocked to resist strongly. He shuddered when he looked into his partner's eyes, remembering he looked like a Zerg also.

Hydralisk. Cyberlisk.

"I will tell you why not!" she screamed at him. "You are no '_other_ _Zerg_' STRAAS! You could have left me to die, but you rescued me. Would a Zerg do that? Or would a Zerg rescue, or even _care _about children?" Her voice rose a few decibels. "No, Zerg would not do that. But that proves you are not a Zerg, Straas! You are much more than a Zerg with mechanical legs. You are a Cyberlisk, a thinking entity with feelings and emotions. What you are on the inside makes you who you are, not by external appearances; I care too much for you, Straas, to let you live in your lonely world of isolation. I also care too much to leave you alone to die. We will defeat this swarm together, Straas, or we will die trying, together." Szcraa finished, her eyes blazing, her voice choked with emotion.

He was about to roar back at her, to tell her he is just an ordinary Zerg, to leave him, to just go away... But something in her words triggered some emotions in his mind. Sorrow. Joy. Anger.

Determination.

A mixture of the four. His emotions in turn triggered something else... Suddenly he felt himself changing. As his vision clouded, he felt something begin to change within him.

* * *

Yet another switch fell into place, as another programming fell away. His psionic dampeners that had held his full potential captive shorted out and dissolved into biodegradable silicate paste. Full datafiles, kept hidden, were revealed. After what seemed days, even if it was only seconds, his computer rebooted and he awoke. 


	5. Chapter 4: Power On

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 4: Power On**

* * *

"Straas!" Szcraa cried out in alarm. Straas had just fallen down, limp. As she reached for him, everything turned white. A flash, one so bright that it temporarily blinded her. When her vision cleared, she gasped at he sight in front of her. 

Straas was transformed.

He stood majestically, his transfigured body possessing a purity and power that she marveled at. Straas' eyes, once a dull red, had become twin, blazing suns. His scythes were like flaming swords, a blue-white shroud of energy swirling and twisting around his blades.

He turned to Szcraa, and spoke. His voice had also... changed. It echoed ever so slightly. "Szcraa, get to the other part of the city. The Dominion troops there need help. I will be fine..."

She looked into his eyes, and noticed that he was not shrinking back at the sight of her. He moved closer, looking down into her eyes.

He had always been taller and stronger than her, but he now seemed to tower over her. Looking up, she sensed that he had changed in more ways than physical. But he still seemed the same Straas. He flexed his arms, and he returned back to normal. Almost. His red shaded body was now streaked with flecks of gold.

He reached out with a retracted scythe, and stroked her face gently with his palm. She shivered, and held his hand in her own. He was actually touching her...

She reached up and returned his gesture in kind, relieved that he was not shying from her touch. Suddenly, he reached out and embraced her, drawing her close. "Humans seem to enjoy this, and now I see why..." Straas murmured. They stood there for a while, and then Straas released her.

"Szcraa, leave me. Get the humans to safety," said Straas.

"No! I won't leave go you alone. It's—" She stopped when Straas gestured with a hand.

"I promise that I will be fine. Go now." Straas' scythes shot out and ignited, burning with a cold, white-and-blue flame. His eyes flared and she knew that Straas would keep his promise. She touched his shoulder, and dashed off to aid the humans

* * *

Straas felt the power. The psionic dampeners had suppressed his psi powers, and the hidden datafiles had concealed these powers from him. Szcraa's spirited, desperate, emotional speech had triggered these changes in him, and by accessing the now revealed datafiles, he knew that Szcraa had the same powers as he. It would only be a matter of time before her psi-powers showed themselves too. 

He charged straight at the oncoming tide of Zerg, faster than ever before; he was topping 160 kph. He heard surprised shouts coming from the Dominion soldiers, other cries were in wonderment, yet others were in fear. He barely heard them as he flashed past. His limbs felt energized from his revealed psi powers, and he felt invincible. Then he slammed into the Zerg.

The Zerg legions seemed to splash out as if an immense hammer had hit them. He began a deal out death in a fatal dance, his psi-scythes flashing and striking. Diminutive zerglings attempted to dodge away in vain. Hydralisks were gutted as they hissed in inhuman outrage. Ultralisks roared in pain and agony as they felt deep cuts and slashes eviscerate them.

He opened his chest, rolled, and fired a volley of Magna Needles, which now resembled streaking blue laser bursts. _So my Magna Needles were psi-charged too_... The Needles impacted, wiping out a small pack of zerglings. Another cascade of Needles took out a charging ultralisk.

He leaped into the air, dodging two ultralisk's Kaiser blades, and landed on its vast back, stabbing his psi-scythes deep. The Zerg warrior shuddered and collapsed to the ground, its nervous system severed. Straas heard screeches coming from the sky.

He looked up, and saw the swiftly approaching mutalisks and the slower guardians. He gave a neural command, and his targeting system went over his left eye. He focused on the mutalisks, moving the targeting crosshair over the flight of airborne creatures, and blew them from the sky with hot plasma, all the while dodging madly. The guardians could wait for later. He returned to the battle on the ground; the Zerg had already reached the city gates. He was going to have to fight harder than ever to save the city...

* * *

"By Adun!" exclaimed Tarthan/Jetok, Executor of the Gray Shadow Fleet. He had detected an immense psionic presence off to the south. He felt the faint echoes as other Protoss heard it in their minds, and subliminally retransmitted it through the psionic link of the Khala. 

It was immense, gigantic, and he wanted to know what it was. Gliding over to a Khalai technician, he asked her to focus their arrays toward the south, in hope of gauging the power. The technician looked down at her sensors, and gasped.

"What is it?" he asked the technician.

"The power readings are off the scale!" she exclaimed. "The total psionic power of this individual is _greater _than three dozen of our most powerful High Templars. The source of this signature seems to be in close proximity to Zerg signals."

_"Impossible..." _

_"Perhaps not so impossible, Tarthan."_

_"Maybe not..."_

_"Perhaps this is the one we have been tracking for so long."_

_"I do not think so."_

_"We had better investigate this. This power is astonishing... and dangerous"_

"We will go to the location of the signature with a task force." Tarthan/Jetok turned to an awaiting zealot, and ordered him to gather an effective assault force.

One hour later, the task force was assembled. His armored zealots stood impatiently, itching to get into battle to serve the Khala. Right behind them was a fair sized group of cybernetic Dragoons, and behind them were one dozen Archons, each consisting of two High Templar that had made the ultimate sacrifice, to merge from two into one. A group of shuttles and scouts floated on anti-gravity thrusters, ready. The shuttles contained a unit of Reavers. This was probably all the firepower they were going to need, but they had brought another squadron of scouts and Corsairs, along with a huge carrier that would take them into battle.

His fleet was the first of its kind, integrating Dark Templar and Templar into one armada. Even _he _was unique, being the first Archon ever to gain the rank of Executor. His flagship, the experimental _Elemental_-class carrier _Phantasm _was capable of cloaking—something the Dark Templars had taught him. However, they were going to use a different carrier, the _Aniopith_, to take them into battle. The fleet's flagship would remain on the surface of the world, far from the battle, in reserve. No matter.

The _Aniopith_ was fully loaded with dozens of interceptors, all ready to shoot out of the carrier and engage the enemy. Signaling his warriors, he motioned for them to board the gigantic capital ship. The shuttles and attack craft would fly alongside. He boarded the carrier, and felt the ship rumble as it flew toward the battlefield.

* * *

Szcraa decapitated yet another ultralisk. It collapsed on the ground, jerking in death spasms. Marines in bunkers quickly dispatched the screeching zerglings that had accompanied it. The vast, reinforced underground bunker had become the refuge of the civilians fleeing from the invasion, and it was full of non-combatants. Several brave young men from the refuge had grabbed weapons from fallen troops and rushed to the bunkers to assist in the defense. While they were full of spirit, they were untrained, and as much a liability as they were help. 

She saw another wave of Zerg heading for the bunker, and rushed out to meet them. She dispatched the attackers quickly in a flurry of Needles and plasma. The bunker had taken a few bad hits, and with each passing hour, troops died, weakening their defensive net.

She hoped Straas was all right. She did not know what to do if she found that had been severely injured or killed. He...

She shook her head and focused on her objective: keep all civilians safe. But she wondered how long she could do that. She had taken a few hits to the lower body and legs, and her mobility was limited due to the break she had received awhile ago. She turned, and again confronted another wave of skittering monstrosities...

* * *

Straas was beginning to tire. He had been fighting for hours straight, with absolutely _no _rest. His psi-powers gave him energy, however, and it would by long before he collapsed from exhaustion. But as soon as he did, the city was doomed; he was the only thing keeping the Zerg from completely overrunning the city and flanking the other marine garrison forces. He fought on, the face of Szcraa in his mind. 

Suddenly his psi-sensors detected psionic signatures approaching from the north. The signatures were the same frequency and type used by Protoss. He wondered what _they_ would be doing here. They could be here to assist the Terrans in repelling the Zerg; the Protoss had on occasion shown compassion to beleaguered Terrans, or they would wait until both sides weakened themselves, and then incinerate the survivors.

He took a moment to pause and peer to the north, where a Protoss carrier and small fleet of starfighters came escorting shuttles. The large golden ship descended. The carrier hovered low, and disgorged a large group of Protoss who were being led by an Archon. Hostile Protoss troops could be a _big_ problem, if his datafiles told the truth about their offensive capabilities.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his side. He looked down and saw a dozen zerglings hanging there, trying to dig their claws into his steel-hard carapace. He shook them off violently, and stomped them to death. He had stayed still too long. Roaring, he resumed battle.

* * *

Tarthan/Jetok emerged from the carrier first, blasting a way through the rampaging Zerg with bolts of sizzling psionic energy. His warriors followed, but the Zerg immediately surrounding the bay opening were already dead. He ordered his zealots and Dragoons into the fray, and the fleet carrier to stay back and provide air support with one dozen interceptors. He gave explicit orders that Terrans should not be engaged unless they fired first. 

His warriors were making a difference to the battle; the Zerg had not expected an attack on that quarter, and the assault was thrown into disarray.

His scouts and Dark Templar-built Corsairs gave the Protoss control of the sky, and the Reavers, Dragoons and zealots were holding their own on the ground. He and his personal guard of Archons were gliding forward, overseeing the battle, helping where necessary. With the unexpected attack from a previously safe area, the Zerg had broken, then retreated, all but a few hundred still remaining.

He turned and peered at what seemed to be a strangely shaped Terran Goliath walker. Gesturing for a single Archon to accompany him, he hovered to where the construct stood. From a distance, the upper turret seemed to be breathing deeply, as if it were alive.

_"Impossible, Jetok."_

_"Yes I know, Tarthan. However, I do remember you a long time ago declaring a power of this magnitude did not, _could not _exist."_

_"Humph."_

He turned from his internal musings and floated closer to the machine. The construct had turned and was tracking him, it seemed. He fully activated his shields, and got within sight range of the enigma, gauging the power of the pilot.

_"Incredible! Tarthan, can you feel the pilot's psionic signature? This is definitely the source of those enormous energy."_

_"I do, but I do not think the pilot is the source of the power..."_

Tarthan/Jetok was greeted with an amazing sight.

* * *

Tarthan/Jetok could believe his eyes! The Terran Goliath had turned out to be a living creature, a mutated hydralisk merged with Terran technology. He immediately began to raise his arms in automatic preparation for a psionic attack, but stopped when he... _felt_ something. Even more disturbing, it seemed to be the source of the psionic energy. Its scythes appeared to be on fire, as if a blue-white flame from an Archon had rushed out and consumed them. Its opposable claws were a distinguishing feature on the Zerg body, telling of bioengineering. Its eyes were twin, blazing torches, and it strode majestically toward him on double-jointed mechanical legs. As the creature approached, the scythes slid away. 

The Archon escorting him began to raise his arms, ready to deal out fiery death, but he sensed that this creature meant no harm to him. He gestured for the other Archon to return to an alert, but non-threatening state. The Cyborg did the last thing he expected: it spoke.

* * *

"Greetings Protoss," Straas said to the two Protoss Archons approaching him. 

Straas did not expect the two Archons to come meet him, so he came to them, slowly, with scythes retracted and plasma cannons lowered. He stayed Ignited, however. The Archon on the left raised its arms in preparation for a psychic attack, but with a gesture from the other, it lowered its hands, but did not abandon a cautious stance. The lead Archon spoke in its twin, booming "voices". "Who... _what_ are you?" the Protoss exclaimed, using the signature Protoss mind-voice.

Straas was used to this reaction before. Not many people were quite prepared for a talking "Zerg".

Especially Protoss.

Straas smiled inwardly at his thought; before Szcraa's plea to him, relating himself to a Zerg, even in his thoughts, would make him angry at least, murderous at most.

He was a Zerg genetically, yes, but he had something that the Zerg did not have: Emotions, sentience, and perhaps most importantly, care for someone else. Returning to the Archon, he answered.

"I am... Straas. I freed myself from Dominion enslavement and escaped along with my partner Szcraa into the countryside. As you see now," he gestured to his fiery blue-white arms, "I have uncovered my psionic powers, which the Dominion had kept hidden from me. Now, I would like to know who you are." The Protoss seemed taken aback by the question.

"He has to answer nothing, abomination!" snarled the second Archon, stepping in front of the first.

"Liharenen/Daruvo, stand down," ordered the first Archon. The second archon backed down, reluctantly. The first Archons turned back to him.

"Strange thing "Straas" to tell a complete stranger of your travails of the last month," said the Archon. Straas blinked.

"I am Executor Tarthan/Jetok," rumbled the blue figure, "I command the Gray Shadow Fleet, a fleet consisting of Dark Templar and Light Templar. We have been tracking... a being off unimaginable power. We originally landed here to acquire supplies, but when we detected you... we investigated." The Protoss swept his arm towards the battlefield, which has littered with bodies, not a few of them of them Protoss.

Straas felt something murmuring against his mind, and he dismissed it as it faded away. Yet the whispering in his psyche had not completely left, for he still felt a touch on his mind. He ignored it, and turned back to the Protoss, extinguishing his psi-scythes.

"While I'm not an authority figure here, I welcome you, and thank you for the assistance in repulsing the Zerg," he said. "You saved countless innocents."

"Some of my predecessors would just say 'they are just Terrans.' To me, however, innocents are innocents. We will always aid those unjustly beset by enemies.

"We thank you reciprocally for the welcome," went on the Archon, turning towards the hovering carrier, "but we must depart from this world. My command ship is... what in he name of Adun?" exclaimed the Archon, as he encountered Szcraa instead. Straas was taken aback; she had managed not only to evade the Protoss' senses, but his meticulous sensors too, which were far more precise than the two Archons' senses. Szcraa was full of surprises.

He jerked in surprise when he noticed six red dots appear over Szcraa's body, and by the way she was looking at him, he knew that something similar had appeared on him. With his attention directed towards Szcraa and the Protoss, he had not detected cloaked Terran Ghosts sneaking up on them. He mentally berated himself for being so sloppy.

He knew that the Ghosts would do a lockdown strike if they made any movement. He should have known... The Dominion meant to recapture them and again enslave and twist them like their plaything. He waited for the rounds of mechanical-freezing ordinance to strike him...

* * *

Tarthan/Jetok immediately reacted to the red dots appearing on the two Cyberlisks' bodies. He spun around, raising his arms and channeling his energy. While he could not see the Terrans, if he managed to fire in the right direction, they could be fried. 

He heard a voice shout out, "Don't try it blue boy! We got a mobile EMP emitter here, and make one hostile move and we hit you with it, and you get _shredded_."

He stopped and moved back to his previous location; he was too weak without the protective plasma shields encasing his body. He glared at the trees, trying to spot the cloaked Terrans, but to no avail. Their cloaking devices were too good. His guardian moved in a position that would shield his Executor, and the two Cyberlisks, Straas and Szcraa, stood defiant, not knowing when the lockdown rounds would hit. Suddenly the red beams snapped off, and a female Ghost emerged from the shadows, the cloak dripping away like water.

"I have orders to subdue you two and bring you in," she said to Straas.

"Well then, be done with it," Straas growled back in defiance.

"Well, but I won't." the Ghost sighed. "Stanton Hunter was my colleague, and if he thought you two were worthwhile knowing, then I do too. But one condition: don't let me catch you again. Otherwise my superiors will severely punish me. And I know how they intend to too." She shuddered slightly. "You two better not let me catch you again, and you Protoss too, get out of here before Mengsk decides to sic his dogs on you." With that, she cloaked and moved off. After the Ghost had disappeared, Tarthan/Jetok turned to Straas and asked "Is that one Szcraa, the one over there?"

"Yes _she_ is Szcraa." Straas sounded like he had encountered this question many times.

"She! Zerg have no gender!"

"True, but we are not ordinary 'Zerg.' Can Zerg talk, or can they ignite their scythes?"

"Your point is taken. Let us go back to the _Aniopith_. We will provide quarters for the two of you on my flagship, the _Phantasm_."

"What?" exclaimed Szcraa, now revealed to be a female.

"I believe that the Ghost made a very clear point. You cannot stay on Waj Norhal, or they might deactivate you and return you to your slavery."

"Your offer is generous, Executor. We thank you," said Straas. The three of them began to set out for the carrier. His guardian floated behind them a few meters back. He sent a command to the _Phantasm_, ordering it to be brought to the surface. He sent a summons out for a shuttle to pick them up and bring them to the flagship.

_"We only have one more room left on the _Phantasm_."_

_"They will be fine. You worry too excessively"_

_"My 'worry' has saved us many times, Jetok..."_

_"Truth, but it does get tiresome after much time. But then again... I have had ample time to get used to it."

* * *

_

Szcraa was awed at the Protoss carrier _Phantasm_. The zealots guarding the landing site of the shuttle pointed at her. Their psi blades mounted on their forearms ignited and they tensed, ready to protect the First Born and their Executor.

"These two are not enemies," called Tarthan/Jetok to his troops via psi speak. "These two are hunted by the Dominion, and even though of their appearance, they have heroically defended a human settlement that would have been destroyed if not for their intervention. I ask you all, even if they appear to be Zerg, to allow them to travel with us and to treat them as equals." The Executor rambled on.

Szcraa was relieved when the zealots extinguished their blades and stared at the Cyberlisks. The Protoss still looked suspicious, though.

Straas looked at her and opened up a commlink.

>As soon as I encountered Tarthan/Jetok, I have been hearing a... a presence in my mind. It's not painful or disturbing; it's almost welcoming. Strange, no?> he said.

Strange indeed. Are you sure it's not bothering you? She did not like to think of her friend in any type of pain. He had been though enough already. _Ugh_. _I_'_m starting to sound like a paranoid Terran mother_,> she thought.

>Do not worry Szcraa,> he said, caressing her shoulder. He smiled, his glinting white teeth exposed. >I'm just fine. Don't worry about me so much.>

>I do worry about you sometimes, Straas.> She reached out and put her arm around his body, putting her head on his shoulder. >I care for you.>

>I care for you too Szcraa.>

Tarthan/Jetok signaled to the pair, and she and Straas climbed into the shuttle that would take them to the _Phantasm_.


	6. Chapter 5: With the Gray Shadow Fleet

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 5: With The Gray Shadow Fleet**

* * *

"I will not tolerate these _things _aboard this ship!" mind-screamed Judicator Ulreathan. Traenid, second-in-command and Assault Commander to Tarthan/Jetok, winced. The vehemence in the Judicator's argument carried on into his speech. The excessive, barely contained force caused twinges of pain to all who "heard" him. Traenid had always known that the Judicator disliked the Executor, but not enough to openly challenge his decisions. 

"These are _Zerg_, members of the monstrosities that have desecrated sacred Auir!" the Judicator continued, his orange eyes glowing red for a moment.

As soon as the shuttle carrying the Cyberlisks and the Executor had landed near the ground where the_ Phantasm_ was grounded, the Archon had called for a council of the five main authorities of the fleet. The meeting had begun as they were leaving the surface.

Seated at the impromptu council was Judicator Ulreathan, representing the political Judicators. Grand Master Artisan Rethoj, representing the working artisans and scientists of the Khalai, sat opposite Judicator Ulreathan. Ground Force Leader Esralath, the highest-ranking Dark Templar warrior—and the youngest and most beautiful—was seated at Rethoj's left. Tarthan/Jetok floated at the front of the rectangular table, the two "Cyberlisks", the male "Straas" and the female "Szcraa" stood silently behind the Executor.

Tarthan/Jetok looked at the enraged Judicator and said "You have all... seen... the Judicator's view on this matter. What say the rest of you?"

The Khalai promptly stood up, a shot a look of amusement towards Ulreathan. "The esteemed Judicator speaks the truth: Zerg do _not_ travel with Protoss. However, these Cyberlisks are both un-Zerglike both physically and mentally; I have no objection to letting these Cyberlisks stay."

Esralath stood up.

"These Cyberlisks remind me of the hardships that my brethren have had to endure. We were exiled from Auir by the Conclave, even though we had done nothing erroneous. Times have changed, and we reconciled to each other. While I cannot truthfully say I have no doubts," she shot the two creatures a look, "these Cyberlisks are going to be captured and enslaved again by the Dominion, and I cannot leave them here. As a Dark Templar and a Protoss, I say they be allowed to remain with us," she said, sitting back down.

Traenid caught himself staring at the Esralath... again.

He shook his head, and shielded his mind from the Khala temporarily. No need for everyone else to see what he was thinking.

He stood, preparing to talk. He had not many great opportunities to give a speech, since he himself was also young, only two years ahead of Esralath's 204 years. He had actually attained the high rank of Ground Force Leader for defending a settlement from Zerg invaders on some distant colony world. Only 200 at the time, the Council saw it fit to award him the high rank of Ground Force Leader, which later advanced to Assault Commander at the order of Tarthan/Jetok when he was chosen for the fleet. He was the youngest to ever receive such a high rank, except perhaps for the Praetor Artanis. But Artanis was at _least_ one hundred years older than him.

"As the Khalai has noted, these Cyberlisks are very un-Zerglike, defending innocent civilians from the Zerg. They are great warriors, and may be the thing we need if we do find what we are looking for." He nodded to the pair. "However, do not take it that I only want you here because you are great warriors. You are being pursued by the Dominion, and it would not be right to leave you here to be enslaved again."

"Then it is settled," said the Executor with an air of finality, "The Cyberlisks will stay with the fleet." At that Judicator Ulreathan stood up, glaring at the much taller Archon.

"You are making a very large _mistake_ Tarthan/Jetok," Ulreathan said, his voice dripping contempt and barely contained rage. "If we had not stopped to retrieve these _things_, we could already be in Sawea. This is one offense too many." The Judicator whirled around and angrily made as to exit. He hesitated, and turned to the Executor.

"Remember that, _Executor_." Ulreathan said as he departed the room. After a moment, the Khalai and Dark Templar also exited the room, followed by the Executor. He was alone with the Cyberlisks.

Traenid strode over to where Straas stood, sizing him up. He just a hair shorter than the Cyberlisk, but he was considered very tall for the Protoss race. He smiled with his eyes, the method for the mouthless Protoss. He considered giving them a lengthy speech of welcome. He settled for something shorter.

"Welcome to the Gray Shadow fleet," he said to them.

* * *

Straas was beginning to like the young zealot. The tall Protoss was in resplendent armor that was subtly different from the other zealot armor he had seen. A glittering, golden, ornate headpiece was set on his head. 

The Protoss had left the room, followed by himself and Szcraa. They stood near some windows, gazing at space as the _Phantasm_ rejoined the fleet. "I've always wanted to see space." He murmured.

"It's beautiful," said Szcraa, who was on his left. Turning to Traenid he asked him a question.

"Traenid, what is the purpose of this immense fleet? I count sixteen carriers, and six Arbiters. Why are they here?"

"The fleet is a mixture of Dark and Light Templar, commissioned by the combined Dark and Light Council. After the scouring of Shakuras by the Prelate Zeratul and the Praetor Artanis, the Council ordered this fleet into being. Tarthan/Jetok was the choice as Executor, but some of the Council members were against him, mostly the older Judicators."

"Why?" asked Szcraa.

"Many of the Judicators still supported the separation between Dark and Light Templar. Tarthan/Jetok did not support it. However, all but a scant few of the laws were abolished by the Council; many of the younger Judicators wished to learn more of the Dark Templar. What few laws that were left were abolished by Tarthan/Jetok," Traenid answered.

"An example of a 'separation' law?"

"Hmm. Perhaps a Dark Templar touching something that belonged to a Judicator."

"Was that humor, Protoss?" he asked.

"Some, perhaps. But some of the laws that were laid down before the invasion of Aiur were very strange, to say the least.

Humor from a Protoss. That was something Straas was not prepared for. According to his datafiles, Protoss were '3 meter tall, highly psionic beings with no characteristics common to humans'. The person who had programmed his datafiles obviously knew nothing about Protoss. Or wanted to fit Mengsk's image of aliens. The xenophobic Mengsk probably had that story circulating among the people of the Dominion.

He looked away from the windows, marveling at space. He swiveled his head to the zealot.

"How did an Archon attain this rank?"

"The two Templar who make up Tarthan/Jetok were once Executors themselves; during the invasion of Auir they helped evacuate many of the Khalai survivors through Warp Gates. As an overwhelming force of Zerg was sighted approaching the stronghold, Tarthan and Jetok merged," explained Traenid.

"Interesting. But you still have not answered my very first question: what is such an immense fleet doing here in the first place?" he repeated.

"Later, when the Prelate and the Praetor scoured the Zerg from Shakuras, a Khalai astronomer sighted an immensely powerful energy signature orbiting near one of the habitable moons. It did not match the wavelengths used by Protoss or the Zerg. The Council, perhaps thinking of the weapons that could be developed from the power, dispatched the newly formed Gray Shadow Fleet to find and investigate."

That made no sense to him. Why need such an immense fleet when they could be needed rebuilding Shakuras? He said so to Traenid.

"Yes, many of us thought so too. Then the Council revealed some hidden records of one of our cloaked observers from the moon. The Zerg had kept some support forces on the moon, but when the power signature left, we discovered it had obliterated all the Zerg. A full Zerg Brood."

* * *

A Zerg Brood! Szcraa could not believe it. The power and strength it would take to completely annihilate the Zerg was immense, almost impossible. She knew first hand. 

She and Straas just stood there staring at Traenid, perhaps thinking it another joke.

She hoped it was a joke.

"I am not jesting. One full Brood," he said, and she knew he was serious.

They stood there for a few moments, and then left the windows. Traenid gave her and Straas a "tour" of the _Phantasm_.

"The _Elemental_-class carrier _Phantasm_ is the first of its kind. It is over 25 of your meters longer than the fleet's other carriers. Also, the _Phantasm_ has a Dark Templar-designed cloaking generator.

"Offensive and defensive abilities?" she asked.

"Normally, a carrier has at the ready seventy-two interceptors to launch. Normal launch capacity is usually eight, but the carrier can launch a maximum of twenty-four; any more than that makes the interceptors hard to control. This ship has the capacity to hold 150 interceptors, and the launch maximum of eighty. The plasma shield generators in the carrier are twice as powerful as the ones in the other carriers, and can recharge three times faster. The armor is the same material, but much thicker."

"Are the interceptors the only weapon of the carrier?" Straas asked as they entered the engine room.

"No. When we... Wait. You were not around during the first Protoss-Terran contact."

"No, we weren't, but we do have datafiles on that 'event'. Your first contact with the human race involved you incinerating a Zerg-infested Terran world to the mantle," she said. She then quietly chuckled when Traenid looked embarrassed.

"Yes, we did cleanse that world of the Zerg—"

"—Plus everyone else," interjected Straas.

"In any case, all carriers possess the weapon necessary to melt a planet. Due to the power of the weapon, and the targeting system used, the weapon can only hit something as big as a planet with any certainty." They turned down yet another corridor.

They were walking down the main hold of the carrier, peering at all the Reavers, zealot encounter suits, and other miscellaneous equipment that was stored there. Szcraa strode over to one encounter suit, and looked at it. Then she looked back at Traenid's.

"Traenid, the psi blades on this armor are different from yours."

"Oh. Master Artisan Rethoj helped me customize these." He raised his arms, showing the custom psionic emitters. "These have the ability to channel my psionic powers not only into enhanced blades, but I can also fire a burst of energy from them." He looked thoughtfully at his arm weapons. "What weapon systems do you have?"

"Well, we do have the upper bodies of Zerg, and with it all the natural tenacity and endurance. Our strength and speed are enhanced by bioengineering," said Straas.

"As you see, we have two powerful shoulder-mounted plasma cannons. We have the ability to fire spines like our upper-body look-alikes, the Zerg hydralisks. However, our Magna Needles are laced with biological explosives, which we can produce in our bodies, with proper nourishment. The—" She was cut off by Straas.

"Speaking of _nourishment_, is there anything for us to eat on this carrier? At least, something that is compatible for us?" The male Cyberlisk asked.

"Yes. Since you possess 'mouths', we had some hunting parties land on the surface and hunt some animals. We took mostly those big, lumbering, horned beasts, about ten of your tons of meat."

"Ten tons of rhynadon?" Szcraa exclaimed.

"We Protoss gain nourishment by absorbing nutrient fluid through our skins, mainly our hands." Traenid explained. "Which is more efficient than mouths, I might add," the zealot added, after a pause.

"Says you..." quietly grumbled Straas. She snorted, but tried to hide it.

"If you are hungry, I will show you to the eating area," said Traenid, who hadn't heard Straas' remark.

The three of them took a turn down another corridor and found themselves in a hallway lined with many doors. Using her deciphering software, Szcraa read the markings on each door. Apparently the rooms were sleeping areas. The three of them reached the end of the hallway, and turned left. Wondering, she asked Traenid, "Where are our rooms?"

"Oh," said the Assault Commander, turning to look at her. "We have only one room left on the _Phantasm_. It is an officer's quarters, so it will be much bigger than the typical rooms. Perhaps I should show you your rooms first, then I can show Straas where he can find food," Traenid said.

He motioned them to the left corridor. She found a very spacious corridor, lined with fewer doors than before. More glittering jewels and flowing writing decorated the walls.

"Your room will be this one," said Traenid, motioning to a door. The three of them entered, and Szcraa looked into very ornate room. While very decorative, it would be rather small for the two of them. She also noticed that some of the items in the room would need to be changed.

"Traenid, the, uh, beds are probably going to be full of holes if we sleep on them. Kakuru skin is much too thin. Is there something else?"

"We do have tougher ursadon skin, if that is what you would like."

"And would it be all right if we took out the frames? They aren't designed for our physiology."

"You don't want perfectly good metal ruined by our heavy rears," quipped Straas.

"I am sure that would be fine," said Traenid, giving Straas an amused look. "I will have some Khalais adjust the room to your liking before you retire for the night. Now, I had better show Straas to the eating areas before he does something," said Traenid with an eye-smile.

The two left the room. She turned from the door and sat down on the bed, shifting her weight so it wouldn't crush the delicate frame. She thought about what had happened in the last few weeks. The escape, the revelations, the battle for the city, the entrance into the Gray Shadow Fleet. _And that we have grown so close_, she thought with a smile.

When they had found out about their resemblance to Zerg, Straas had grown cold and far from her, not even looking at her. When he had Ignited, as he called his transformation, they had grown closer than before.

She got to her metal feet and looked into one of the large mirrors that were mounted on the walls of the room. She examined her face, the inner- and outer-jaws, the many mechanical interfaces grafted onto her skin, and the neural targeting system mounted over her left eye, her red colored, dully glowing eyes. She turned and sat back down on the bed.

Her thoughts returned to Straas, and her own emotions for him. They had saved each other's life many times already. She felt something _special_ for him, but she wasn't sure of the emotion's name. Shaking her head, she got up and exited the room, still pondering her emotions. _Is my feeling for Straas _love? she wondered as she traveled the corridor of he carrier.

* * *

Straas enjoyed the fresh meat. Traenid had said that the rhynadon meat was kept in stasis, to maintain freshness. After his meal, Traenid led Straas to a computer station. The "computers" that the Protoss used worked by transmitting information visually and psychically. He had used his camera to record schematics and maps of the ship, so he would at least know how to get around. The information was now stored in his datafiles. 

Traenid departed, leaving Straas to look around the ship himself. Strolling along the golden-and-gemstone corridors of the _Phantasm_, his thoughts took a turn back to recent events. Especially his relationship with Szcraa. Things had changed so much between them.

When he had found out their resemblance to Zerg, he was horrified, and could not look at her; it was not because he was repulsed by her, but because he was reminded that he looked like a Zerg himself whenever he looked at her. When he had Ignited, he had done it to protect her and the Terran civilians. _We're two of a kind, so perhaps that's why we have grown close_, he thought as he stepped around two zealots that were chatting to each other. The duo gave him a look, and made a small but respectful bow. Obviously, Tarthan/Jetok do not want any incidents resulting from... intolerance. He returned the gesture in kind as they walked by.

He supposed trust would come in time.

Ever since that day of the battle for the city, he had felt he had no need for life, but to allow Szcraa to live. He smiled at that remembering what she had said to that. "_We will live together or die together, Straas_." During the dismal days before the battle for the city, he had tuned in to local 3DV station, watching countless Terran shows to keep his mind occupied. Among those he had viewed were romantic ones, which kept entering his mind as they were boarding the _Phantasm_. "_I love you_" was the line that had made think for so long. His thoughts again turned to Szcraa. They were close now, very close. Many times their lives had depended on each other. His feelings for her had no name... yet. _Is my feelings for Szcraa _love? he pondered as he rounded yet another corridor.


	7. Chapter 6: Foreshadow

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 6: Foreshadow**

* * *

Szcraa was still exploring the ship when she turned a corner and almost barreled into Straas. With her mind so engrossed on him, she had not detected him. And by the way he had almost bumped into her, he was thinking about something too. Straas smiled, recovering first.

"Hello Szcraa." Straas paused, the added "You seemed very deep in thought."

"Oh." She was a little taken aback by his comment. She thought for a while, and saw no reason to keep it from him. "I was... thinking about you."

This time Straas looked a little surprised. And concerned "You were?"

"Yes."

"Strange... I was thinking about you too," Straas said.

They walked in silence, wondering what exactly Straas was thinking. Straas took the lead, and she found herself in front of yet another door. Her deciphering software labeled the door as "training room".

"Traenid gave me maps to the ship. I would like to see what Protoss use for training," Straas explained, tapping the door control. The door slid up into a recess in the wall and they entered the training area.

For only a training room, it was huge. The floor was divided into six square sections, each section except one having devices.

She walked over to the nearest machine, which was named "reflex-tester". She looked over it, but could see no directions on the use. She looked at Straas, who had accessed a computer terminal. The gold-and-gemstone machine seemed to be explaining the device to him. She walked over.

"How did you access a Protoss computer?" she asked Straas.

"Traenid showed me how." He turned from the computer to look at her. "That machine you were looking at is a reflex-testing machine. It fires small metal balls at you from nine directions, with more being fired as the levels progress. The objective is to dodge or destroy the balls before they hit your body. Thirty levels, and the highest the Protoss on this ship have gotten is thirteen, set by Traenid. It also appears that Esralath also tied his record. Impressive."

She snorted. "It has _thirty_ levels, and the top ranking is _thirteen_?"

Straas shrugged. "They're Protoss. Some things may never make sense."

She had moved over to the reflex-tester, and began examining it. It had nine tubes arrayed around a thirty foot square space. There was a tube on each side, on each diagonal corner, and one above her. She turned it on, setting it to level ten. Balls began flying. _Much too slow_, she thought, dodging and slicing the balls apart. She upped it to level twenty, then thirty. She aced it. _Too easy_. _Thirteen_... _Ha_!

She stepped away from the middle of the machine, not even breathing hard. Almost immediately a diminutive Protoss probe began to take the rended metal in it's anti-gravity beam and began to move the metal to a reprocessor.

Straas used a different machine. He braced himself, and was pushing against a shimmering force-field wall. She examined the control panel, and discovered it also had thirty levels. Straas was just finishing the last level. Like her, Straas didn't appear tired.

"This machine uses a force-field to push against someone, testing for strength. All you basically have to do is to push back harder than the wall's pushing."

Straas stepped off and allowed her to step on the mat. Straas moved over to one of the reflex machines.

* * *

Straas had just finished level twenty-seven when he looked over at Szcraa. She looked as tired as he did. He had clocked the number of spheres shooting out of the tubes at over ten per second. Huffing, he stopped the machine and peered at Szcraa. She braced herself for level twenty-eight, but in vain. The force-wall hit her and knocked her flat on her tail. He couldn't help from laughing at the dazed expression on her face as she sat on her rump.

"_I_'_m_ funny? You try 28 on that machine... wait, you did," she grumbled as she massaged her rear and got back to her feet gingerly.

Chuckling, he turned back and awaited the metal orbs to begin flying. The first dozen came out. He blocked them, but the other dozen that shot out and hit him on the face settled the matter. Rubbing his nose, he slipped clumsily on a piece of metal and fell down too.

He and Szcraa burst out into laughter. He got up and helped Szcraa to her feet.

"Don't worry, I'll beat you one of these days," he said as they left the training area, exhausted. "In a few hours, we will have our last meal for the day in a special eating area for the officers, before retiring," he added.

"I hope the food is good..." she said.

"Don't worry, it's quite tasty."

* * *

Traenid sat down next to an old High Templar at the table that was "usually" reserved for the Dark Templar. He dipped his hands into his bowl, and absorbed some of the nutrient fluid.

The four huge circular tables were meant to provide a separate dining area for the officers of the four castes of the fleet: Templar, Khalai, Judicator, and Dark Templar. Tarthan/Jetok had abolished that custom, as with anything else that had to deal with segregation in the fleet. Traenid was again glad that he had gotten this particular Executor. With the Archon's unorthodox disregard of traditional separatism, a future relationship with the _Dark Templar_ Esralath might just be possible. With his musings, he almost didn't notice Esralath sit down next to the old Templar and begin a conversation with the old one. After a few minutes the High Templar got up and walked away. Esralath got up and took the High Templar's vacated seat, next to him. He hoped he did not appear nervous to the Dark Templar. He took his hands out of the still half-full bowl and set the meal aside.

"Xupol was questioning me on the use of our light-bending cloaking. He was possibly hoping to learn how to do it," Esralath said to him.

"Oh. Ye-yes, your cloaking technique is quite... uh... helpful." He sounded horrible, even to himself. He sounded as bad as when he was in training, and another attractive zealot had caught his eye. He hoped his nervousness didn't show.

"What is wrong, Templar? You seem very nervous. Why because?"

It showed all right.

Traenid wanted to say "you", but he thought that would eliminate any hopes of getting anywhere.

"Nothing is wrong. Truly, I am just fine."

"Is it I? You are staring at me."

He flinched a little, but kept it from her notice. His mind raced for a comeback.

"Uh. Partly. I think Kirah will be bedridden for a couple more weeks, no?"

Kirah, a low ranking zealot, had made the mistake of saying... unkind words about Esralath's people. Something about connecting her lineage to a Protoss and a bengalaas. The zealot was now in sickbay, nursing two broken bones, and a superficially damaged eye.

Esralath chuckled.

_That was close!_ he thought. He did his best to hide his feelings from the communal link of the Khala, but failed. He winced; Esralath could read them if she wanted to. Then he remembered whom he was concerned about.

No Dark Templar joined in the Khala, despite the Conclave's orders; in fact, it was their act of disobedience that had gotten them exiled by the Conclave so many centuries ago.

He spied over his shoulder and saw Straas and Szcraa enter the room. He motioned for the two to sit at the table, but a few feet from a seat, Straas gave him a strange look. With a crooked grin, Straas left the table and sat at the Executor's table. Szcraa ignored her partner's action and sat next to Esralath. In what seemed like no time, the female Cyberlisk and the Dark Templar were deep in conversation about battle tactics. _Perhaps next time,_ he consoled himself as he got up from the table and seated himself next to Straas.

* * *

Somehow Straas had known what had been going on in Traenid's head. He had no idea how that was possible; he knew his psi-powers weren't _that_ strong. He pushed the thoughts aside as he conversed with Tarthan/Jetok.

"Executor, what is the Gray Shadow Fleet's destination? I was not able to ask you this earlier."

"We are en route to the Dark Templar colony world of Sawea, to which we are bringing supplies and additional colonists," answered Tarthan/Jetok. "The carrier _Khala's Chosen_ is the colony ship, transporting over two-thousand Khalais. We should arrive there in about two to four weeks."

Tarthan/Jetok turned and began speaking to a Templar on his side, and the rest of the meal passed quickly.

* * *

Straas was still bothered by his mind reading. As they were leaving the room, Straas decided to tell the Executor his thoughts.

"Executor, I have a question.

"Yes, Straas?"

"When I entered the room, I had... read Traenid's mind. I don't know _how_ I did it. Do you have any idea?"

The Archon suddenly looked thoughtful. "What did it feel like."

"It felt like... a groups of minds in my head, but I could only feel Traenid's thoughts."

Tarthan/Jetok's glowing visage frowned. "A communal mind? You are describing... The Khala, the way of the light Protoss. How...?"

"I have no idea, Executor."

"You always have something knew and interesting about you Straas. I do not know how you can sense the Khala, but it is truly amazing. If it is not detracting from your well-being, then I see no need to be concerned with it," said the Archon.

"It is not, Executor. Thank you," he replied.

"Good, good. Have a pleasant night, Straas." With that Tarthan/Jetok turned and glided away.

* * *

He reached the room and opened the door. Szcraa was not back yet. She was probably still talking with he other Protoss. He went over to his mattress, which was on the floor, and laid down on it, swiveling his plasma cannons down and flat on his back. He closed his eyes. A few moments later he opened them when he heard the door slide open. Szcraa entered the darkened room, and sat down on her mattress, on the opposite side of the room. He told her about his mind reading.

"Interesting..."she commented.

"My thoughts exactly."

They laid down on their respective beds and didn't say anything. Abruptly, Szcraa spoke.

"Sawea is Esralath's homeworld." She turned her head and peered at him from across the room.

"Ah. She'll be glad to go back home," he said. He thought of a comment to add to the information, but could think of none. "Good night," he said, turning over and closing his eyes.

_She was running through the winding canyons, being pursued by the powerful creature, a creature horrible beyond imagination. She stole a glance back, and saw that the _thing_ was loping at her heels. She ran faster, and pulled away. She rounded another corner, and gasped at the sight. Straas had Ignited, and was battling desperately with what appeared to be a Protoss in strange armor. The Protoss wielded two swords, which were glowing with an evil, black, light. Straas was slowly weakening against the powerful adversary. Dark swords flashed, and blue-white blades flashed to meet them. But as the battle progressed, the blue-white blades were taking longer and longer to parry the blows. Suddenly, a powerful blow knocked her forward. She slammed into the ground and felt her leg crack, sending webs of pain through her system. She rolled onto her back, and saw the creature that had been pursuing her leap into the air, its claws ready to impale her and pin her to the ground._

_"_NO_!" yelled Straas from behind her, and Szcraa saw the monster knocked away by a burst of plasma. Eyes wide, she turned back to look back at Straas and his opponent._

_With Straas facing her, his back was turned to the Protoss. Straas could not see the pulsing ball of darkness hit him in the back. She screamed in horror as the Protoss ravaged the stunned Straas, cutting and slamming him. Then, cackling maniacally, the Protoss locked his hands on Straas' head. Rings of energy began to burst from Straas' head and up the Protoss' arms. He was being drained of energy! Straas roared and tried to throw the Protoss of, but he was weakening by the second. Soon, Straas stopped struggling, and lay still. His attacker leaped off him, and floated into the sky, still laughing. After the Protoss had soared away from the area, she limped over to Straas' body, and knelt next to it._

_"_Straas! No, this cannot be! You died to save me. To save me again. No._" She sobbed into his body. "_I love you._" She didn't sense the other creature creep up on her.

* * *

_

Straas jerked awake as he heard Szcraa scream. He leaped from his mattress, and bounded over to Szcraa, who was sitting up and shuddering on her mattress. He kneeled down next to her and took her into his muscular arms, holding her close. She had begun to sob into his chest, holding him fiercely.

"Szcraa, what's wrong?" he asked.

"I... had... a... dream..." She stuttered out, her eyes beginning to brim with wetness. _Ah, yet another something we have integrated into us_, _Cassandra_, he thought absentmindedly, sighting the tears.

"About what?"

"It... Involved... _you_! He..." She got that far before she again broke down. Straas was starting to feel alarmed. Szcraa was a very brave individual, and something that frightened her this bad must be really horrible.

"Please, tell me, Szcraa," he whispered to her. She suddenly got a hold of herself, and became calm.

"Why am I worrying? It's just a harmless dream. I—"

"It didn't sound harmless," he interjected.

She stared at him. Relenting, told him her dream, that is was about the carrier that they were on exploding.

He didn't believe it. Something like that wouldn't leave her crying and shaking. Hoping that she would forgive him, he probed her mind, and saw her true dream. He jerked a little when he sensed her whispering "I love you" into his dead body of her nightmare.

"You love me Szcraa?" he murmured into her ear. She started in his arms.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I read your mind."

"Oh." She paused. "You what?"

"I read your mind. It's the truth. I don't know how, but I did."

Szcraa hesitated. "I... yes I do Straas. I do love you," she confessed, lowering her eyes. After a moment she looked back up. There were tears in her eyes.

He hugged her tighter. "I'm sorry for doing that. You just seemed... so distressed," he said, feeling embarrassed.

"Don't apologize. So you know my whole dream then?"

"Yes. No wonder you woke up screaming..." he told her.

"Straas...?" Szcraa asked him, putting her head on his chest again.

"Yes?"

Szcraa ifted her head of his chest and looked into his eyes. "You know I... love you. Do you..."

He looked down into her eyes. "Love you too? Yes."

She looked up into his eyes. He looked down.

Not knowing how, he felt his head lowering to hers. Szcraa looked into his eyes. Their faces were only centimeters away. He lowered his head the few remaining centimeters, and felt his mouth contact hers. Their mandibles interlocked, and they grasped each other tighter. He savored the tingle the kiss caused. After several seconds, they disengaged.

"That was nice," said Szcraa, mystified.

"It was."

"I thought kisses were of human origin," said Szcraa. "Their mouths are much more flexible..."

"Humans enjoy them, and besides, you didn't seem to mind. As for the flexibility issue, I think they work just fine..." he whispered.

Their next kiss lasted a _lot_ longer.


	8. Chapter 7: Straas and Szcraa

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

Chapter 7: Straas And Szcraa

* * *

Traenid flexed his arms, igniting his psi blades, awaiting the next wave of metal balls to shoot out of the machine. The level indicator told him to expect a level-twelve barrage to fire. The spheres began to fly out, and he sliced and dodged all of them. He advanced to thirteen, then to fourteen. While he had reached level fourteen, he had never beaten it. His arms became blurs as he knocked the metal away. Suddenly, he tripped on a piece of diced sphere, and fell backwards, his arms flailing out of position as he sought to regain balance. He lost his fight with gravity and began to topple over backwards.

He saw the final ball barreling towards his face. Time seemed to slow down. Defeated, he closed his eyes, but then opened them when nothing hit his face. He felt shock as his back hit the padded floor. He sat up jerkily when he saw Esralath standing over him, her warp blade shimmering. She had been cloaked, so he wasn't able to see her. He calmed himself as best he could and spoke, trying to put a little humor into the situation.

"Oh, Esralath. Thank you! That one _almost _got me." he said, making it sound as if the mere metal ball was a dangerous adversary.

"Ah yes. We can never be too careful. That ball could have been infested," Esralath quipped.

They both laughed. The Dark Templar bent over and helped him up. His fingers trembled slightly as her hand wrapped around his.

"You're here to train too?" he asked. Then he mentally berated himself. Why else would she be here?

"Yes," she answered. She thought for a moment and said "I would actually like a sparring partner. The machines get too easy after a while. Would you...?"

"I... yes. Yes I will." He had to concentrate very hard to keep the tremor out of his psi-speak. "Um, weapons or no weapons?"

"None." Esralath said, sliding off her warp blade projector. Her usual dark brown cloak that she wore around the ship followed her weapon. She was wearing light training clothes. Sighing, he slipped his twin psi blade projectors off both arms, as well as the golden headband he normally wore on his forehead. He stood to face the Dark Templar. She had also taken off the black diamond armband from her upper arm. Contrary to popular Terran belief, Protoss did not lounge around in a command ship in their powered armor.

He went over to the sparring mat, and crouched, his arms in an active defense position. His right arm was up and forward, ready to strike, and his left arm was down and back, ready to block. The Protoss female was in an aggressive attack stance, both her arms mid way up her body, both able to dart forward and to guard her body. He circled to his left, keeping his eyes on hers. Her eyes shimmered slightly, and she shot forward, her right hand curled into a claw. Her right hand aimed to hit his lower abdomen. His left arm blocked, and his right flew out, aimed at her face. Her other arm parried the blow. They disengaged and moved backwards a few paces. Esralath kept up the attacks, and he blocked and counterattacked.

After five minutes of this, he began to grow annoyed. With a yell, he brought his arms into an attack position and charged. Not looking surprised, Esralath grabbed one of his arms and was about to begin a rolling throw, but Traenid was prepared. He had been expecting this. He placed his foot between her legs, so she wouldn't begin the tumble that would throw him through the air. He jerked his foot back, and the female Dark Templar stumbled, falling on her back to the ground. Before she hit the floor though, Esralath scissored her legs closed, knocking his feet out from under him.

He fell. Right on top of Esralath.

He was looking straight into her eyes.

"Oh! I am sorry." He said, trying to lift his body off of hers. He slipped and fell on her. This time his face was mere inches away from hers. Esralath began to turn her face away with a smile on her eyes, but they were too close. The front of his face brushed against hers. She laughed slightly. Then, almost reluctantly, he rolled off the Dark Templar and sat up. Esralath sat up too.

"Please, forgive me. I did not want that to hap—"

"That is not true," Esralath said, smiling. She tilted her head to the side.

_Here goes_.

"How would you know, you do not know the Khala..."

"No, but I did read your signs."

"Oh. I surmise that I did not hide them well enough."

"Staring at me whenever we met. The nervousness. I would say they were not hidden at all," the Dark Templar laughed.

Traenid laughed too. "Well, you know my feelings about you. Do you... share those feelings.?"

It seemed like the right thing to say at the time.

Esralath suddenly looked grim. "Do you want the real answer, or the one you _want_ to hear?"

Oh no.

Feeling apprehensive, he asked, "Which is the one I want to hear?"

"For the answer you want to hear, the answer is 'yes'."

"And the real answer?" He said, doing his best to prepare for the response.

"Yes also," she said calmly. Then she giggled, and rubbed her hand on his cheek. "I will see you later, Templar. Stay well."

He was too astonished to reply as she recovered her blade projectors and cloak, and left the room after embracing him. She giggled slightly as she left the room.

_I did _not_ expect that answer_!

He laid back down on the sparring mat and laughed out loud.

* * *

Szcraa was walking with Straas down the many corridors of the ship late the next day, just talking. They had their arms around each other.

"Have you wondered why our mechanical legs have such a miraculous repair system?" Straas asked suddenly.

"A little. I, of course, know why our organic parts are so effective."

"Our legs are _bio_mechanical. Metal and flesh are 'weaved' together. The metal flash-welds itself together, and the organic parts in our legs are as effective as our upper bodies."

"Uh-huh," she said, trying to sound bored. She was being excessively playful as of late. No idea why.

Straas put on a grin. "It doesn't sound convincing. Not 'bored' enough."

She snorted indignantly. "Stop doing that!" she said, kissing him on his neck.

"Sorry. It is an annoying habit I have seemed to develop, no?" Szcraa just snorted.

"Well, since I wasn't bored enough, what about our plasma cannons? Are they made of the same metal?" she said, gesturing to the plasma cannons that were folded down on their backs. _Her_ datafiles weren't open, yet, so she went to Straas for little technical questions.

"Yes." Straas said. He suddenly looked thoughtful "I also found out after an... extensive search of my revealed datafiles, that we... uh... can, um... are able to..." The male mumbled.

"Later, Straas," she said. "It's time to eat."

* * *

The food, as usual, was quite good, though it was getting repetitive. Straas laid down on his mattress, thinking about last night. Szcraa was currently talking with Rethoj the Khalai, since he had told her to let Esralath and Traenid have some time to themselves. He left that thought and returned to his reflecting on Szcraa's dream. _What does it mean_? he wondered. He had been _killed _by a Protoss. _Which_ Protoss would like to see him off _dead_? Moreover, _how_ could a single Protoss kill him?

He heard the door open and sat up, greeting Szcraa as she came in through the door.

"Hello Szcraa," he said as she entered the room and walked over to her mattress. Szcraa looked over at her mattress, looked at him, and picked it up and carried it over to where he sat, and dropped it. She sat down on the ursadon skin..

"What's wrong?" he asked her, concerned.

"I don't know... I just want to be close to you." Szcraa sighed.

"That would be fine with me," he said with a grin. Szcraa moved closer to him and put her arms around his body, holding him.

"You've put yourself in danger to save me twice. Once on Waj Norhal and once in a dream."

"I would die to save you Szcraa..." he said.

"Don't say that..." she muttered,

"Szcraa..." he started, and was abruptly silenced when Szcraa reached up and kissed him. She then let go and stretched out on her mattress.

"I recall you trying to tell me something in the hallway, but it was time to eat. We never got around to it."

"Oh..." He remembered what he wanted to say, but this was not the time to say it. In the hallway, they had been bantering in the corridor, so it would not have led to anything. They might have even have dismissed it as a nice little factoid.

"Straas? Are you going to answer me?"

"Oh. Well, after looking at my datafiles, I found out that we could... uh... The two of us... have, um... can—"

"Can what?" she inquired, interrupting him.

"We are... We are able to... muh... mate," he finally stated quietly.

"We can _what_?" Szcraa yelled, sitting up, her shoulder banging into his.

"Trust me, I was... as surprised as you were," he said, rubbing his shoulder.

"Why would Govalich put _this _into us?" she asked him.

"I don't know. Cassandra did some pretty strange things that don't seem to make sense."

Awkward pause. A long pause.

"So we can have, uh, children." She looked awkward saying that word.

"No. Our. . . mating was only designed for recreation, so to speak." He couldn't believe he was saying this. _To Szcraa_!

"I guess that's a good thing."

"Why?" He asked.

"Well, I don't know where we could find an extra pair of legs." Szcraa said. They both laughed. Straas decided to ask his question.

"Well, Szcraa, since we... love each other, would it be all right if I asked you if..."

"We could... yeah.? I was getting my courage to ask you the same thing, but I still have a question: how can we?" She said, gesturing to her biomechanical lower body. From personal experience, he knew that the metal was very, very tough.

"We have, uh, mating ports that... contain our notional reproductive organs."

"Oh. I hope you know how to open them."

"Yes. I'll send you the command lines to open them," he said, transmitting the codes.

_I _still_ can_'_t believe I_'_m saying this_!

Putting his fears temporarily to rest, they opened their ports and let it happen. They giggled a few times when poking elbows of prodding knees tickled the other.

He was just not used to the moans, the touches, the movement. Definitely not used to it.

_I like it_, he decided.

* * *

_That was wonderful_,thought Szcraa. They were lying on their sides cuddling each other. She was panting hard. Straas, if possible, was breathing even harder.

"That's funny," she said, grinning at him.

"What's funny?" Straas asked.

"You can fight off legions of Zerg, but fifteen minutes of this can exhaust you."

Straas cleared his throat. "You were, well, uh, _highly energetic_." Straas said, nibbling on her throat. His hand reached around her body and stroked her back, brushing her flesh and folded-down plasma cannons.

"It's not as if you were not," she said smiling into his forehead and running her hand down his back and stroking his crest. Their hug tightened.

"I guess this makes us 'lovers' now, does it not?" Straas murmured.

"Yes, it does," she said, kissing him. She looked into his eyes, and saw a sense of relief, joy and... _love_ in his eyes. She knew her face was mirroring his.

"I love you Szcraa," said Straas, his face only inches from hers.

"I love you too Straas." She said, felling him drawing her closer. They kissed, then she fell to sleep, content.

* * *

Straas rubbed his knee and got back up from the floor. Szcraa smirked.

It had been several days since their "first encounter", and the following days had passed fast. _And not only a "first encounter" too. We had many more after that_, he mused. The fleet was scheduled to reach Sawea in a day. Straas planted his feet in the ground, and put his arms up, his scythes extended but unsharpened. He and Szcraa circled the sparring mat, looking for openings. They had both deployed their plasma cannons, but had kept them deactivated. No need to blast a hole into the bulkhead for a sense of realism.

Szcraa was much faster than he was, but he was much stronger; Szcraa had to throw all her weight to parry one of his blows. They began to circle as soon as he regained his feet. With a feint to the right, Straas got her off balance, and delivered a swift kick that buckled Szcraa's left leg. A blow from an unsharpened scythe knocked her to the ground. It happened in the space of 1.5009 seconds

"We're equal now," Szcraa said, rubbing her rear. "Four to four."

"I must confess I'm too tired to continue," he said.

"I'm most likely as tired as _you_ are. It's almost time for the evening meal."

"Then let's go," he said, wrapping his arm around her.

* * *

They entered the room, and Szcraa was surprised to see Traenid and Esralath alone at one of the tables, deep in conversation. She started over toward them.

>I think it be best to leave them be,> said Straas over the comm.

She took a look at the pair. They looked to be quite content with talking with each other. >I think you're right.>

She and Straas sat down at the Executor's table. She saw that Esralath and Traenid had walked over and joined them. She had just put the first bite into her mouth, when the _Phantasm_ shook violently. The morsel of meat halfway into her jaw slipped off her scythe and plopped to the floor. A moment later an urgent, amplified psi-voice was heard.

"Executor! I have five hostile unidentified ships twenty kilometers from us! We are preparing interceptors for launch! Shields hit, but holding. Shield power to eighty-five percent. I'm engaging the cloaking field!"

The voice belonged to Deneras, the helmsman of the _Phantasm_. Tarthan/Jetok shot up quickly, motioning for Straas, Traenid, Esralath, and Szcraa to follow. He glided at top speed, forcing the four of them to rush to keep up. She was second, with Straas, Traenid, and Esralath not far behind. Another rumble shook the ship far more violently than the first. Szcraa ran faster.

They arrived at the command station. She looked down and saw the holoprojection at Deneras' station. It showed two large ships, one about the size of a carrier, the other slightly larger, being escorted by three smaller ships. The actual shape of the ships was not distinguishable at this distance.

"The ships have not responded to our hails, and the second-largest one there shot what seemed to be a controlled nuclear explosion or some type of plasma lance at us. Our shields held, but the shot took much out of it," said Deneras in a rush, explaining the situation. "Interceptors, scouts, and Corsairs have left the _Phantasm_. Preparing to engage the enemy."

On the holoprojection screen, she saw the five hostile ships blur for a moment, stretching, then they disappeared. The five hostiles had jumped into hyperspace.

"Our interceptors and pilots could not get close enough for a detailed visual, Executor," said Deneras. "However, we got a lock on their probable coordinates. They were heading for Terran space. Shall we alter course?"

The Executor thought for a moment.

"No. We must get to Sawea to fortify it. We will spare a search party though. The carrier _High Destiny_ and the Arbiter _Might of the Khala_ will be dispatched on a hunt. The rest of the fleet will remain on course to Sawea," said Tarthan/Jetok. "Also, send four observers ahead of the fleet to keep watch on Sawea," he added. "Deneras, you have command until I return."

Then the Archon left the room.

"Keep defenses and weapons charged for one more hour. I want to make sure that the jump was not ruse," commanded Deneras to the other Protoss on the bridge.

Traenid turned to her, with Esralath holding his arm gently

"We have ten hours until we reach Sawea. You two should get some sleep; we might have a busy day when we reach the Dark Templar world."

She watched the two Protoss leave the command room. Turning, she took Straas' arm, and headed out of the command chamber towards their room. She thought about the excitement, and simply said "Let's get back to our room; I think it be best to take their advice."

"Energetic night, no?" said the male Cyberlisk.

"Well, yes. Well... at least the food was good," she admitted, hunting for something positive of the night..

Straas turned to her, a strange grin on his face. "I can think of things that taste a lot better."

She wondered what Straas meant, then the implied meaning hit her.

"Straas! Think about something else for a change!"

"What do you expect? I am a male, after all."

"Well, don't worry." She said, knowing a grin akin to Straas' was creeping up her face, "I said we should _go to our room_. I never said anything about sleeping yet."

Straas laughed, and she noticed they had picked up pace to get to their room.

* * *

The four unidentified ships troubled Tarthan/Jetok. He had rested for only two hours, then had awoken and floated in his meditation chamber. Seven more hours had passed.

_"That was a strange move you put on me, Jetok."_

_"You were no expecting it, Tarthan..."_

_"No, but even great warriors can be beaten by a new but simple trick."_

_"Next time we will try that in a brighter field, were you cannot slink in the shadows."_

_"The same one again? I do get tired of it after to long a while."_

His two selves wondered what non-Archons would interpret of his musings. Distractions He swung his thoughts to the matters at hand. Five unidentified craft, and three of which were most likely troop carriers, according to what his Khalais—including Khalai Rethoj— had hypothesized. The second-largest ship, equal in size to one of his normal carriers, had taken a shot at the _Phantasm_, doing no damage to the hull, but he knew that if the large craft wanted to fight, it could have caused serious harm. He floated up, and began to make his way to the command room. Suddenly, he heard Templar Deneras' shout in his head. Deneras was using a tight-beam psi-speak message to him.

"Executor! You had better see this!"

He rushed faster, arriving at the command room. He glided over to Deneras, who was at a Khalai's station. Tarthan/Jetok glanced at the technicians screen.

"By the gods..." he gasped as his non-existent heart froze.

The power signature that the Gray Shadow Fleet had been chasing was found.

On the surface of Sawea.


	9. Chapter 8: Encounter

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 8: Encounter

* * *

**

Szcraa found herself on the Arbiter _Revaras_ along with Straas, Traenid, and Esralath, plunging down to he surface of Sawea. In the Arbiter were a small team of warriors and Dragoons, all fitted with special sensors. Their work was only to scout the area for a suitable place to set down the main force of the fleet. The observer drones dispatched by Tarthan/Jetok had mysteriously disappeared.

She looked out of the Arbiter's window, and glimpsed the fiery trail of their entry. She turned and saw Esralath sending a message to the surface under encryption, most likely to her family members on the surface. She looked back out the window.

She drew in a sharp breath. Beneath them lay a shattered colony, many of the fallen buildings still flaming blue, marring the beautiful green landscape. She heard Esralath gasp behind her.

"No..."

There was a in a few moments she felt the downward motion stop, and the back of the Arbiter opened. Zealots and Dragoons spilled out, dividing into teams of three zealots and two Dragoons. The groups immediately began to spread out, scouting the area. She, Straas, and Traenid hung back, wishing to survey the area first, but Esralath rushed out with a cry. They all rushed after her, helped her sift through the rubble. Szcraa noticed that there were no bodies lying there, Protoss or otherwise. Puzzled, she activated some sensors. Still nothing. She pumped more power into them. _There_! She detected multiple points of movement underneath Esralath, as the Dark Templar kneeled, shocked among the ruins. She noticed Straas jerk in surprise also. The movements did not appear Protoss.

"Esralath! MOVE!" she cried. Esralath jolted, and she looked up with a strange look on her face. But the Dark Templar stayed where she was. Whatever was causing the readings was nearing the surface. She leaped, swept up the Protoss in her arms, and leaped away to safety. She deposited Esralath on the ground

No sooner had she reached a location away from the anomalies, that the ground burst open. She wasn't sure what to expect, but what erupted from the ground was something from her worst nightmares.

The _thing_ stood taller than she and Straas. It was a dark gray in color, and its carapace gleamed harshly. It had a _five_ arms; two were arrayed on each side, near the shoulder. The two arms on the top were tipped with large, curved, meat-hooks, while the bottom two terminated in hands with six digits, including two opposable fingers. The middle arm jutted out from the abdomen, jointed three times. It ended in a large spear-like claw, which dripped acid. Its abdomen, under the central arm, was studded with short, sharp spikes. Muscles bulged from under its exoskeleton. The creature had a triangular shaped head, on which three compound insect eyes were mounted, colored a deep violet. It had two pairs of scimitar-shaped mandibles, and three bristled antennae extended out of its head. Its shell was knobbed and bumpy, with several protrusions. Its legs were jointed backwards, like that of a bird.

It opened its repulsive jaws and screamed. Then it rushed towards her, its hooked claws reaching for her flesh. As she slipped into battle mode, she detected more signals underground...

Traenid just managed to bring up his psi blades before the other aberration swung its hook at him. The other one had burst just a meter off to his right. This one looked different, lacking the middle claw that the first one possessed. He stumbled as the creature hit him on the shoulder with its right hook. He cried out. The blade had overwhelmed his shields on his shoulder and had struck his unarmored arm. White-hot pain flooded his mind, but he shunted it away.

With a cry, he swung his right blade up and blocked the monstrosity's left blade. He performed a spinning backhand with his left arm that walloped its head off. As he used the short reprieve, he heard cries from the scout teams. They had obviously been ambushed too. Another monster burst out from the ground, still about twenty meters from him. It broke into a ground-devouring lope, its clawed arms reaching to rip and tear into his flesh.

Raising his right arm, he gripped it with his left. He stabbed at a crystal button on the right gauntlet, and a hissing ball of blue energy flew from his projector and devoured most of the attacking creature's face. It stumbled on for a few more loping steps, then collapsed.

He turned. Esralath was lying on the ground, her face tucked into her hands, cowering. Three of the insectiod aliens were converging on her.

* * *

The shock only lasted a fraction of a second. Straas began to track the six creatures, but his Magna Needles or plasma cannon might hurt one of the others. With a roar, he Ignited and rushed them. Three of them turned and came at him. He didn't waste time, and he slew the three creatures in 4.54 seconds with his Ignited scythes. As the rent pieces of the insectiods fell to the ground, Traenid destroyed three others that had been attacking Esralath. His lover seemed to be holding her own against three of them, one of them a five-armed breed. Szcraa only took 6.0223 seconds to take those out. He heard Traenid yell an order to his spread out troops.

"Return to the _Revarus_! All units, return to the _Revarus_!" the Assault Commander roared.

Only a little more than half the scout forces managed to retreat to the _Revarus_. The Arbiter lifted off slightly and provided cloaking and suppressive fire for the retreating forces. The Arbiter lifted off as soon as the last spidery Dragoon was back aboard, and returned to the fleet.

Three different "strains" had been sighted. Two were already known to Straas, the five-arms and the four-arms, but one report came in about a two-armed breed that had utilized hand-held energy weapons. He was debriefed by Tarthan/Jetok.

"So it seems that these things have reached Sawea before us and had demolished the main colony. We will have to establish a fortified encampment near the canyon here," he gestured toward a holoprojection, "which will provide natural cover and choke points for our forces. Mass orbital assault will begin in one hour."

Tarthan/Jetok rode down with the lead Arbiter, the same _Revarus_ that had brought the scout team in. Behind him three other Arbiters and dozens of shuttles dropped unto the planet. An assault wave of scouts and Corsairs had already swept the area. The carriers _Aniopith_,_ Khala's Chosen_,_ Taeralyn_, and _Veranath_ were already on the surface with the fighter craft; the remainder of the fleet, the eleven remaining carriers and one Arbiter, stayed up in geosynchronous orbit. The _Phantasm_ remained in space as well.

They faced no resistance. In only a matter of hours command nexuses and dozens of powering Pylons and defensive photon cannons were online. The main base was set up on a grassy, four mile wide mesa, which was heavily laden with useful mineral deposits and vespene geysers. There were three entrances to the mesa, to the north, east and south, but Tarthan/Jetok had made sure to guard them all with ample photon cannons. Soon legions of robotic probes were shuttling back and forth, retrieving resources and placing them in the nexuses. The minerals and gas were then beamed to the orbital carriers for refinement and manufacture. The probes on the surface then created warp rifts to warp in the buildings. He also ordered mass production of robotic Reavers and armed shuttles to bolster his forces.

Robots could be replaced. His warriors could not.

He called down some Dark Archons from the _Phantasm_, in hope that they could mind control one of the creatures and extract information from it. He also sent out heavily armed parties out to locate and retrieve any Dark Templar survivors.

The attack came the next day.

* * *

Straas awoke the next morning next morning to the feel of Szcraa's arms around his neck. He felt something was going to happen. He sat up and tensed.

"What's wrong, love?" she asked, concerned. She had also sat up and draped an arm around him.

"I do not know. I _feel_ something is going to happen."

"Perhaps you are too tired. I can understand why. Especially after last night..." She grinned slightly.

"It's not that. I feel very refreshed after sleeping next to you," he smiled a little, "but I don't know, something is going to happen. I had better go outside."

They had been sleeping in one of the Nexuses, close to the middle of the mesa. He had just gotten up when an explosion rocked the Protoss structure. Szcraa was up in a flash, and together they rushed outside. He saw about two hundred two-armed creatures were hurling themselves into the photon cannons' fire at the north entrance, a few miles away from the main base. The creatures wielded weapons that looked like a cross between and scantid claw and a Terran gauss rifle. The claw-like opening from the front shot out white sparks that damaged the shields of the defending photon cannons, managing to drain the shields and destroy a few. But he could easily see that the cannons would easily hold off the advance. As the insectiods hostiles made their cannon fodder charges, Protoss warriors and Reavers were already scrambling to engage the aliens. Straas was almost there when the Pylons exploded into azure flame. The photon cannons fell silent, with nothing to power them. No return fire greeted the insectiod's sparking weapons.

The still defensive structures began to fall, caught in the crossfire of dozens of sparks. He cursed, and Ignited, wondering what had caused the Pylons to detonate like that.

At the loss of six zealots, two Dragoons, and ten Reavers, and some minor damage to his and Szcraa's systems, the entire swarm was beaten off. One of the Dark Archons even managed to mind control one of the creatures. It had been dragged into one of the nexuses, and was being interrogated. He stalked off to one of the nexuses, to assist Traenid and Esralath in the interrogation.

* * *

"Who... _what_ are you?" Traenid demanded of the creature.

"Thres'nalop am I!" said the creature, enthusiastically waving its arms. Traenid looked questioningly at the Dark Archon that had captured it.

"When I mind controlled it, I made sure it would cooperate. As for the strange grammar, I could not give it a full lesson of our language in one hour." The psionic entity whispered in its eerie psi-voice.

Traenid looked back at the at the "Thres'nalop" and questioned it. Executor Tarthan/Jetok had ordered him to first find the nature of these creatures, and technical information on their weapons. Leadership, hierarchy, politics, etc, would come later.

"Who are you?"

"A noblade am I."

"What is a noblade?"

"Noblade a type of Thres'nalop warrior is.

"What other kinds are there in the 'Thres'nalop' ranks?"

"Ones with four arms stoneblades are. Five arms steelblade denote. Six arms darkblades are," replied the noblade.

_So now I know what attacked us_. _Stoneblades and one steelblade_, Traenid thought. The darkblades looked nasty. The two pairs of upper arms were tipped with hooks, and the mobile hands of the Thres'nalop looked heavily muscled. It stood well over four meters.

"What about these?" He asked, using a small holoprojector to call up images of machines encountered by scout parties and observers. One looked like a ground-skimming Corsair, through it was a utilitarian gray, and without the smoothness of Protoss machines. It had an eerie, oily sheen. Another looked like an egg suspended between six spindly, jointed legs. It stood twice as a high as a Protoss. The egg bristled with what appeared to be three large cannons mounted on ball turrets, and the legs of the machine were spiked and clawed. The last ground machine was a huge bipedal walker that possessed dozens of spines sticking from its front and two huge, hooked arms as weapons. It had backwards-jointed legs, like the Thres'nalop.

And it was even bigger than the egg-walker.

"Six legged one a sickle is. Sharp blades and three powerful nuclear cannon possesses it. Powerful very. Skimmer one a dagger is. Impact sparks fires it. Two-legged one a Bloodscythe is. Powerful more the sickle than. No projectile or energy weapon has it. Rocks by claws crushed, it can."

"Hmm..." he muttered. The Bloodscythes and sickles could have caused problems if they had been part of the force that had attacked the photon cannons. He then switched the holoprojector to enemy aircraft and spacecraft encountered. One of the small aerial machines looked like a Protoss scout, only much, much thinner. Much thinner, as to the point of looking like a needle rather than a spacecraft. It had turret-mounted weapons on its belly. Another ship looked to him like a small Zerg guardian made of metal; it had multiple cannons curling out and forward on its sides. The third ship was much larger than the first two, shaped like a fat Terran goldfish. It had three forward facing cannons on either side of its armored bulk. The fourth ship was huge, dwarfing all the others. It was a straight dagger, with large cannons scattered all over its massive hulk. Traenid thought it looked like his psi blade. The final ship was, if possible, even bigger. It had three turret-mounted weapons, but it was significantly lesser armed than the fourth vessel. _Must be equivalent to one of our carriers, but armed_, Traenid thought.

"Thin ship a Thres'nalop talon is, one of our fighters. Other one a Rapier is, for anti-air and interdiction work used it is. Third a transport is, a scabbard. Large sword-shaped one a Thres'nalop Scimitar is. Very strong it is. Last a Katana is, an armed carrier."

Traenid looked at the vessels, and hoped the fleet never had to engage the ships. They all looked fearsome. _Last thing now, to find the commander of the forces_.

"Who is your leader? What do you want?" asked Straas, who had until then been standing behind him, silent.

"Our leader the rank of Supreme Blademaster bestowed is."

"Who is your 'Blademaster', and where can we find him?" asked Straas again.

"He..." Suddenly the noblade convulsed, pitching forward. It shivered wildly on the floor for a few seconds, making retching sounds, and laid still. Surprised, Traenid bent down and tapped the alien body. No reaction.

"What happened?" queried Ulreathan imperiously, striding into he room in his Judicator's robes. He looked down at the dead noblade.

"Apparently, it was too far taxed by the mind control of the Dark Archon, Judicator."

"Did it mention who was leading these things?"

"It did not, Judicator."

"A pity..." uttered Ulreathan as the he exited the room. Traenid suddenly had a dark feeling, but he could not place its source. He shook his his head, and the feeling passed. He looked at two of the zealots that had been standing guard.

"Take the body to the Khalai xenobiologists. See what they can find." The two warriors complied, picking up the corpse and exiting the chamber.

He turned to Straas. "Did you feel something when Judicator Ulreathan came into the room?"

"Other than his normal psionic signature, no." replied the Cyberlisk. "I had better assist with the repair effort now, if all is done here."

"Of course."

Straas left the Nexus. Alone, he thought more of what was going to happen in the near future.

* * *

Szcraa rolled under a Thres'nalop sickle, slicing two of its legs off on one side. The previously six-legged machine tumbled off on its right side. She finished it with a burst of Magna Needles into its belly. The second attack had come with more warning. But this time the noblades were supported by stoneblades, steelblades, sickles and daggers. The eastern entrance guard had fallen to the onslaught, but already dozens of zealots, Dragoons, and a prodigious number of robotic Reavers had advanced to meet the enemy. She whirled in time to dodge a flying spark of energy. She eliminated the offending dagger with a salvo from her plasma cannons.

She and Straas had been the first to meet the assault force, and were managing to beat back the attackers. The Protoss ground forces met the Thres'nalop invaders, keeping the replaceable Reavers to the front. After half an hour of fierce fighting, the Thres'nalop began to retreat. She saw the Protoss scouts that had arrived six minutes into the battle strafe the retreating aliens with dual photon blasters. None of the enemy seemed to be firing back. Suddenly, one of the advance scouts exploded, raining bits of Protoss remains and golden metal onto the surface of Sawea. The other scouts immediately broke off and headed back to base when Thres'nalop ground fire began to strike them. She scanned wildly for what had destroyed the Protoss fighter.

Then she saw. One of the Protoss scouts had broken though the scout squadron and was heading quickly over Thres'nalop lines, unmolested by the insectoid aliens.

_"So it had been Ulreathan who has been commanding these... things."_

_"So it seems."_

In the aftermath of Ulreathan's escape into Thres'nalop hands, many peculiar events had been explained. The encounter in space, and the death of the Thres'nalop prisoner had been Ulreathan's doing. But still other events puzzled Tarthan/Jetok. The explosion of the Pylons in the first attack, and the ambush at the surface still baffled him. And Ulreathan had not been informed of the initial reconnaissance incursion. Only trusted officers had been entrusted with the knowledge of the scout force. _Perhaps there was some way Ulreathan could have eavesdropped on us_?

No. That would be too hard. Confidential mission objectives were kept behind shielded doors. Still, with Ulreathan's powers...

He put the thoughts from his mind and left the Nexus' meditation chamber.

Outside, about three-dozen dazed Dark Templars were awaiting a shuttle that would take them into orbit. About a dozen decided to stay and fight. The search missions were turning up more and more survivors each day.

The autopsy on the Thres'nalop revealed some startling revelations. The Khalais had located an organ in the head that was remarkably similar to the ones in the Protoss brain, which allowed them to "hear" and "speak" psionically. In the case of the dead noblade, one end of the organ had ruptured, resulting in instantaneous death.

The Khalais hypothesized that the Thres'nalop communicated both by sound and by psi, though the psi frequencies were different from Protoss'. Their bodies were protected by a tough chitin, nearly as resilient as Zerg hydralisk's. They had an impressive musculature for their size, and the technology that they wielded was clearly superior to the Protoss and Terran armaments.

Suddenly, a booming, terrible laugh seemed to fill all space. Tarthan/Jetok whirled around, then peered up into the sky, which seemed to have gone dark. Ulreathan's face filled the sky as far as the eye could see. His holographic visage was adorned with non-Protoss armor. The floating face spoke with a menacing, thunderous voice.

"I am Blademaster Ulreathan! Stupid, ignorant creatures, to think I was truly one of you. But now I am powerful beyond comprehension." The Judicator's eyes glowed in fury and hatred.

"The Thres'nalop have had a claim to this universe, even before the misguided Xel'naga created you filth. Your vaunted creators fled in utter terror when challenged by the great legions of the Thres'nalop. Now it is time for the Thres'nalop to complete what they had begun. We will sweep this world clean, then proceed to your beloved Aiur.

"The Thres'nalop will not stop until this galaxy is cleansed!"

Then the face faded from the sky.


	10. Chapter 9: Ignite

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 9: Ignite

* * *

**

Straas felt Szcraa's hands caressing his shoulders. Yesterday's battle had left painful wounds in him, which still ached slightly, despite being healed. He turned towards his lover and kissed her crest. She hugged him and buried her face in his neck. Ulreathan had been true to his word, and the Protoss encampment was under constant assault for the past few days. Further search parties had uncovered another three hundred Dark Templar survivors. Half of the total of six hundred survivors had agreed to stay in fight, with most of the children and females retreating to the safety of the orbital carriers.

Curiously, no space encounters were reported by the remaining ships in orbit

Straas stretched, and got up from the mattress. Szcraa rose just after he did. Twisting, he kissed her. They put their arms around each other and went outside.

He and Szcraa helped in the repair efforts, bringing the damaged photon cannon to full repair. The weary zealots thanked them heartily, as they were all tired from the constant siege. He picked up a signal from Esralath, telling both of them to report to the central Nexus.

TarthanJetok, Traenid, and Esralath awaited him and Szcraa at the command Nexus.

"I have detected a plea for help message from some trapped colonists," said Esralath. "They have been silent so long because of the heavy activity of Thres'nalop in the area."

"A recovery force might draw too much attention to the survivors, thus threatening them." Traenid gestured at Esralath. "Esralath suggested that you two could be dropped off about three of your kilometers from the site, then you could neutralize any threats and escort the survivors to the pick-up zone."

He hesitated. Without him and Szcraa, the base would be hard-pressed to hold back the hordes of Thres'nalop. Traenid seemed to read his mind.

"Do not worry. Rethoj and his Khalais have constructed several antimatter cannons, which will make do for the duration of time that you two are gone. According to Rethoj, the cannons have the capacity to hit orbital targets. Their power is estimated to be twenty times that of the photon cannon's power and range. They _should_ suffice for the time you two are gone," explained Traenid.

Straas thought. The base might be in danger, but the Dark Templar survivors were weakening every day. _Someone_ had to get them out.

"Give Szcraa and me some time to prepare. We'll depart at dawn."

Somewhere deep in his mind, he knew that something was wrong

* * *

The shuttle dropped them off at the beginning of the canyon, about one-hundred kilometers north of the Protoss base. Szcraa peered around, examining the kilometer high walls. The canyon was eighteen winding kilometers long, but only twenty meters wide. Galloping at full speed, she and her mate had cleared seventeen kilometers in 5.024 minutes, at their maximum speed of 100 KPH. She powered up her sensors to 300, and proceeded the last kilometer slowly. The canyon end came into visual range, with several small but distinct caves about sixteen meters above the canyon's rocky floor. _Strange. The caverns seem to be somehow blocking my sensors_. _Perhaps the material in the caves are disrupting my carrier waves_. The caves looked like they could be reached by walking on a Protoss-size path. The more she thought about it, the less likely it was that the rock walls could be causing passive interference. 

_I don_'_t like this_...

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Straas jerk. Szcraa turned around, puzzled, but then hundreds of white Thres'nalop weapon sparks descended from above. She whirled around, looking at the suddenly very close canyon walls. Hundreds of Thres'nalop noblades, stoneblades, steelblades, and black, six-armed darkblades all were swarming from the caves in the wall and bursting from the ground. Thres'nalop sickles, daggers, and Bloodscythes were converging on them. She could see no Protoss anywhere. The way out was blocked by the ambushers.

She and her partner were trapped.

* * *

Straas roared in frustration. He had extended his scythes and Ignited as soon as he had sensed the aliens. His plasma cannons went into action, devastating the oncoming ranks of Thres'nalop noblades with hot, fiery death. A smooth dodge caused a massive darkblade to miss its intended target, and he decapitated the monstrosity with a backhand swipe of his burning scythe. He looked around. The walls of the canyon seemed to have transformed from rust colored rock into gray insects. 

He heard a cry. Spinning around, he saw Szcraa trapped against the wall of the canyon, under the fire of twenty hideously powerful sickles. The triple barrels roared. A dozen beams of white energy converged on her, and she fell to the ground, unconscious and bleeding. She had managed to destroy or disable sixteen of the powerful Thres'nalop machines. The remaining sickles converged on her prone form. Ignoring the fire that seared his carapace, Straas charged into the midst of the powerful machines, destroying them with powerful slices and bursts of plasma and Needles. The remaining pod-like body cores of the sickles were burning on the floor when he noticed that all the Thres'nalop had fled. _They had us hopelessly outnumbered, so why did they flee?_

"Because _I_ want the pleasure of killing you two, you monstrosities." The voice of Ulreathan dripped with hatred and malice. Straas spun around. "Sentient _Zerg_ are an even _fouler _abomination than the Protoss. You were created to be beasts, and beasts _only_." The Judicator was covered in a heavy gray cloak. Strange shapes were outlined from under the thick, unknown cloth.

Szcraa stirred, regaining consciousness.

"_Shadowgate!_" shouted Ulreathan, pointing his fingers at Szcraa. A swirling vortex of shadowy energy opened over Szcraa, then slowly lowered over her inert form. As it lowered, it became a sphere that surrounded her. Then the dark globe flashed blue, and vanished. Szcraa was there no longer.

"_WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?_" he screamed.

"Nothing... yet. She is just gone. I will deal with later. Wait..." Ulreathan said with mock concern, "I left something to keep her company. A Thres'nalop fused with Protoss DNA; mine, in fact. My other ones have unbelievable strength, and powerful psionic signatures. Perfect to eliminate you and the other DNA mistake cooked up by the misguided Terran scientists."

"Monstrosities..." he whispered, rage building within him.

"Like _you_." Ulreathan sneered. With a sweep of his shoulders, Ulreathan threw of his cloak. Straas stepped back in shock. The Judicator had _transformed_. The thin Protoss frame was now packed with un-Protoss muscle, and had probably gained over twenty kilos in weight. Ulreathan's skin had shifted color, so that it was now a dark gray, nearly the same hue of the Thres'nalop. Small spikes seemed to jut from his shoulders and legs at a seemingly random pattern. He was wearing strange, savage armor, which seemed all spines and blades; a black headpiece crowned his head. Strapped to the sides of his armored legs, the former Judicator had two sheathed swords. Straas heard rasping as the blades were drawn. The swords were engulfed in black fire, the near opposite of his own Ignited blades.

"I hope you are ready to die, Straas. You will die an abomination, a freak, and as someone who could even protect his partner. I will make sure Szcraa suffers. Or perhaps my Demonblade will finish her off first... Yes, that would be appropriate. There will not be much left when it is done. The Deomonblades are _very_ violent." The former Judicator paused, and looked thoughtful. "Strange. In a way, _I_ will kill her, since my DNA is in the Demonblade..." Ulreathan's voice dripped hate and contempt. "Yes, that would be most amusing. Her limbs will be ripped off her body... though I don't know how the Demonblade will handle those hideous legs of yours. Perhaps she will scream louder as they are ripped from her body."

Straas gave a roar and rushed Ulreathan. With a mocking laugh the Judicator blocked his blows and counterattacked, bringing down the left sword. Straas swung his right arm in a feint, then jabbed with his left scythe. Ulreathan laughed and blocked his left arm, and slammed Straas' face with a powerful kick. He stumbled back a few meters, stunned. Recovering, he leaped again, performing a whirling backhand strike with his right arm. Ulreathan ducked the blow, and brought a sword up to block Straas' followthough with his left blade. The other sword flashed out, but Straas parried it, and somersaulted away.

Straas circled his transformed opponent. Leaping back to gain some distance, he deployed his plasma cannons and began blasting away. Ulreathan held up an arm and the balls of energy seemed to hit and invisible wall in front of him, not getting within a meter of his body. He attacked with his Ignited scythes again, and again he was repelled easily by the transformed Protoss.

He was weakening against his adversary, and he knew in the back of his mind that he could not win. He fought on, getting more and more tired as his monstrously powerful opponent laughed and mocked. _I MUST win_. _For Szcraa_...

* * *

She fully awoke in an unknown zone of the canyon. She shook herself, and sat up. All she remembered was that a powerful Thres'nalop force had waylaid her and Straas. She sat up and felt her heart stop. A _thing_ was staring down at her. The monster had the body of a Thres'nalop darkblade, with two hooked arms, two bladed arms, and two regular six-fingered hands. _The thing from my dream_! The body was shaped the same, but instead of the rough chitin of the Thres'nalop, the abomination had scaly skin... skin that resembled that of a Protoss. Her terrified gaze traveled up to its head. It had the head of a mutated Protoss! Four mandibles swung out from its head, and two glowing eyes glared evilly at her. With a burst of energy, she kicked up and away. The thing grunted and looked at her. She was already gone and running. 

She was running through the winding canyons, pursued by the powerful creature, a monster horrible beyond imagination. She stole a glance back, and saw that the thing was on her heels. She ran faster, and pulled away. She rounded another corner, and gasped. Straas had Ignited, and was battling desperately with what appeared to be a Protoss in strange armor._ Ulreathan_. The Protoss had out two swords, which were glowing with an evil, black, light. Straas was weakening against the powerful adversary. Dark swords flashed, and azure-white blades flashed to meet them. But as the battle progressed, the blue-white blades were taking longer and longer to parry the blows. Suddenly, a powerful blow knocked her forward. She slammed into the ground and felt her left leg crack, sending webs of pain through her nerves. She rolled onto her back, and saw the creature that had been pursuing her leap into the air, its claws ready to impale her and pin her to the ground.

"NO!" yelled Straas, and Szcraa saw the monster knocked away by a burst of plasma. She heard a crunch as the creature slammed into the canyon wall.

With Straas facing her, his back was turned to the Protoss. Straas could not see the pulsing ball of darkness hit him in the back. She screamed in horror as the Protoss ravaged the stunned Straas, cutting and slamming him with fury.

"Enough toying!" screamed the transformed Judicator. "Meet death, Straas!"

Then, sheathing his swords and cackling maniacally, Ulreathan locked his hands on Straas' head. As she watched in horror, waves of energy transferred from Straas' head to Ulreathan's arms. Straas roared and tried to throw the Protoss of, but he was weakening by the second. Soon, Straas stopped struggling, and lay still; his once glowing blades had extinguished. His attacker leaped off him, and floated into the sky, still laughing. After the Protoss had soared away from the area, she limped over to Straas' body, and knelt next to it.

"Straas! No this cannot be! You died to save me. Save me again. No." She sobbed into his body. "I love you." In a start of horror, she remembered her dream. It had just happened as she had seen it. She didn't sense the thing behind her.

* * *

She was stunned as the powerful blow smacked her several meters away from Straas' body. She could not move her legs anymore; they were extremely damaged by the ferocious blow of the monstrosity. She watched in helplessness as the monster kicked and ravaged Straas' still form. Tears came to her eyes as her lover's body was violated and despoiled. 

Boring of Straas' body, the monster began heading towards her. Its Protoss eyes curled up into a mocking grin made hideous by its horrible form.

_Straas has protected me twice already, and I cannot even protect his body. Straas_! _Straas_! Tears began to stream from her eyes.

_Straas, I love you_.

With that thought echoing in her mind, something miraculous happened

* * *

Energy surged into her system. Her legs mended, and her scythes burst into green-white flame. She felt the energy, and the power. 

She had Ignited.

The monstrous Protoss/Thres'nalop hybrid stopped in its tracks as it examined the prey that had become predator. With a speed that could barely be recorded by her chronometers, she closed the ten-meter distance between the thing and her and sliced it into five different pieces with her psi-scythes.

As the pieces of the violently destroyed creature splattered into the ground, she kneeled next to Straas. With a sob, she retracted her scythes and took her mate's head into her arms and cradled it. The blinding grief was still inside her. She gazed down at her lover's still form. Rough cuts zigzagged over his carapace, and some of his shell was crushed.

"Oh Straas. Oh Straas." she said over and over again. Blinking tears, she looked down, and gasped.

Emerald flames were licking from her chest onto Straas' body, and his body seemed to be _drinking_ it. She dropped his head. The flames no longer touched his body.

Despair set in. _Can I not even hold his even body now?_

She looked closer. His body had not burn marks on it, save for the ones that had been there from his previous battles. _If Straas is to vanish, then at least let it be from fire from _my_ body_ she thought with finality

She was crying, embracing his body, when Straas stirred in her arms.

* * *

Straas slowly opened his eyes, feeling almost too weak to even do that. He was looking into his lover's startled features. Szcraa's eyes were engulfed in fire, as his eyes were when he had Ignited. Her retracted scythes were burning with an emerald-white flame, similar to his azure-white scythes. Szcraa extinguished herself. Like himself, she was not quite the same; her body had streaks and flecks of silver running down it. 

"Straas, I... how... what..." Szcraa stammered. Her mandibles were splayed open in surprise.

"I don't remember what happened Szcraa," he replied wearily. "All I can remember was Ulreathan..."

"Straas... you... you died. _He_ drained your energy." She looked at him.

He felt the shock go into his body. "I died? Then how...?" Talking was so hard.

"When I was holding your... body... emerald flames were entering your body from mine..."

"What?"

"I'm not sure, love, but I think I gave energy to you."

"Oh." He paused for a moment. "Do you feel weaker?"

"No..." she said, puzzled. "Straas..." She burst into tears. He drew her down and embraced her, holding her close.

"Amazing, Szcraa. Amazing." Then he dropped into unconsciousness, the strains of the battle finally overcoming him.

Szcraa picked her unconscious lover up and began charging at full speed towards the encampment, Igniting to pick up speed. Someone had betrayed them, and she was almost certain of who it was...


	11. Chapter 10: Traitor

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 10: Traitor**

* * *

Traenid looked up as Esralath entered the command Nexus on the north side entrance of the mesa. This particular outpost was the most heavily hit, and consequently, the most heavily armed. Ten of the sixteen powerful antimatter cannons were controlled directly by this nexus. Traenid turned away from the myriad holoprojectors, which were showing the point-of-view of dozens of observers that were patrolling the area. Esralath seated herself next to his station, which was separate from the other command stations in the nexus; the door to this command station was the heaviest built, since it contained all the override controls.

"Greetings, Esralath. Any news from the Executor?"

"No..."

Traenid suddenly had a strange feeling, but he was distracted from it when a screen suddenly flashed a real-time view of an immense Thres'nalop force converging on his position. It was not a tiny scouting force, but an assault group filled with thousands of noblades, stoneblades, steelblades, darkblades, and daggers, acompanied by hundreds of sickles and Bloodscythes. He would be overrun in a matter of minutes; the main base would be vulnerable if this happened. _If only Straas and Szcraa had not gone, we _might_ be able to hold them_. He reached towards his control panel, intent on opening a transmission to Tarthan/Jetok at the main base. They had to send out a sortie force to assist him.

Esralath grabbed his hand, stopping it.

"Esralath! We have to warn..." He looked into her eyes. Something... something was wrong.

"No."

"What? Esralath..." He began to rise from his seat.

"The plans of Ulreathan and the Thres'nalop will not be impeded."

Traenid just had enough time to register horror before Esralath's fist smashed into his head, and he lost consciousness.

* * *

"Love, you can put me down," Straas murmured to the Ignited Szcraa, who had been carrying him for the last half hour. It would take them at least three hours from them to negotiate the numerous canyons and mountains that dotted the distance between the camp and the ambush site. Szcraa slowed and put him done. He wobbled a bit. Szcraa braced him, and he stopped swaying.

"Are you sure you are all right?"

"I'm sure."

Szcraa suddenly broke into tears. She threw her arms around him and kissed him savagely. "I almost lost you," she murmured into his shoulder, her lithe, strong shoulders shuddering.

"I _almost_ died, Szcraa," he said, "But _you_ saved my life."

"Like you saved me from that creature."

"A Demonblade. Ulreathan's own DNA went into creating that monster."

"Ye—Straas! I sense Protoss! Over inside those caves!"

He and his mate rushed over to one of the caves. He stuck his head in.

"AHHHH! ZERG!" came a mental scream from within the cave. Straas grimaced. Now was definitely _not _the time for refugee Dark Templars to be scared of him.

"I was sent here by the Gray Shadow Fleet. I'm only here to help! I—" He stopped when a Dark Templar rushed him, warp blade ignited. With a deft move, he caught the arm of the Dark Templar, a youngish male. He lifted the Protoss into the air by his arm. The Protoss kicked and punched.

"_We are not here to harm you_!"

"Let go of me, you Zerg filth!" The Dark Templar struggled harder in his grip

"Stop trying to stab me and I will!"

"I have no idea how you can talk, but I will carve your vocal cords out of your throat after I—"

"I thought Esralath briefed them that we were coming," he said to Szcraa, ignoring the enraged Protoss' threats.

"What have you done to Esralath?" screamed the Protoss that was dangling by his arm. The Protoss' efforts to free himself redoubled.

"Nothing. She sent us here. Your sister was intent on rescuing you," replied Szcraa.

"How did you know that she was Thralen's sister?" came a voice from within the cave. An old Dark Templar male decloaked and stood before them. Straas was relieved to see that the warp blade on the older Protoss' arm remained silent.

"Thralen! Stop! Whoever they are, they could have killed you if they wanted to. Stop resisting and he will release you," the older Dark Templar said to the younger Protoss. The young Dark Templar stopped struggling, and looked sullenly at Straas. He put the Protoss gently down on the ground.

"I am Xavan. Thralen is my son, and Esralath is my daughter. Thralen is my youngest child, only a mere 168 years of age," he said to the them. "I am curious, however, as to how you know that Esralath is Thralen's sister."

"To make a long and tragic story short, we have advanced psionic abilities. Minor telepathy is one of those abilities," explained Straas. He wondered why Esralath did not contact them, as she said she did.

"How many of you are there?" queried Szcraa.

"We have about three hundred survivors distributed around the surrounding caves," replied Xavan. _Three_ hundred!

"We have to organize them to move all at the same time. The Thres'nalop are combing the area. The main base is only twelve kilometers away. Are there any infirm or injured among you?"

"Yes. But that will not be a problem. We have a very large number of Corsairs hidden in several caves. We have enough to lift all the sick, young and old to your base. We kept them hidden lest they be seen and shot down by these... 'Thres'nalop', you call them?"

Straas suddenly felt a shockwave emanating from the Protoss base camp to the south. He steadied Thralen and Xavan, who were nearly thrown from their feet. His sensors identified the force as equivalent to a score of Protoss photon cannons in action. He knew that only antimatter cannons were the only ones that unleash that sort of power. The Protoss base was under attack by Thres'nalop forces.

* * *

"Executor! We are being attacked by overwhelming numbers in space! The carriers _True Light _and _Starsong _have been completely destroyed, and the _Star Reaver_, _Raksala, Final Judgement _and _Thunder Blade_ have been heavily damaged. We need support from the antimatter cannons on the surface.

"We will try to consolidate a landing point so we can provide mutual support. We begin descent in thirty minutes. We should reach the surface forty minutes after that," came the urgent voice of Templar Deneras, who Tarthan/Jetok had left in command of the fleet in orbit.

_"So this is it, Tarthan."_

_"Moment of truth, yes."_

_"Should we not have received a warning from Traenid back at the northern base?"_

_"Perhaps they were overwhelmed too quickly."_

_"Even to send a message? No, something else happened."_

He looked around, at all his warriors and war machines that were ready to battle—and to die. They were hideously outnumbered; they were hopelessly outgunned. Even with the power of the Cyberlisks he knew his base was doomed...

They needed to delay the Thres'nalop so the Dark Templar aboard the orbital carriers could unload the survivors. After that, the Arbiters _Scantid Claw _and_ Tassadar_ would need enough time to get a dimensional recall lock and whisk away the survivors. Tarthan/Jetok clenched his fists and prepared for the unstoppable tide.

* * *

"Why, Esralath? Why?" Traenid half-demanded, half-pleaded. He was shackled up to the wall, held up by glowing energy chains. He knew now how the Thres'nalop had known they were coming onto the surface on the first scouting mission. When they had been on the _Revarus_, she had been sending something to the surface. It had not been intended for her family, but for the Thres'nalop.

"Ulreathan will give the Dark Templar safety from the persecution of the Templar," Esralath said, her eyes blazing yellow.

"You know what Ulreathan will do to _all_ non-Thres'nalop life! He intends death to all in this univ—"

"You are wrong! He has promised me, and he does not lie."

Traenid felt frustration and sorrow well up within him. "So was your love for me nothing? Was it just so you could get into here and advance your 'plans'?"

Esralath's eyes flickered, with what looked like to Traenid as genuine pain and regret. But then it was gone. "I'm... sorry... Traenid. I had genuine feelings for you... really..."

"Then why?" I—" He was cut off as a transmission from the main base was heard

"_This is Tarthan/Jetok. Anyone who can here me! Get the antimatter cannons online. We need to provide ground fire for our carriers and Arbiters_!" The transmission cut.

"Please, Esralath! Lives depend on this! Are you condemning hundreds of _Dark Templar_ to die? Are—"

"_Silence_!" Esralath screamed.

"You _are_ condemning hundreds to die."

I said be silent!" Esralath activated her warp blade. Her eyes had gone cold and dangerous.

"You have betrayed _everyone_, Esralath. Me. Tarthan/Jetok. Your _family_." He was going to say more, but Esralath's warp blade swept down, stabbing deep into his torso. Cold pain drove its fingers into his stomach. Esralath backed away from him, a look of horror and rage mixed in her eyes. As blue blood began to gush out from the mortal wound, he felt darkness begin to come.

* * *

The sick and old and young stayed back with Corsairs, with a few warriors left to guard them. She, Straas, and all the volunteer Dark Templar warriors were running at top speed, while two-dozen of the spare Corsairs zipped through the air. A total of two hundred warriors accompanied she and Straas. As they rounded a hill, they were greeted with a hideous sight.

Ulreathan was standing amid piles of Protoss corpses, both Dark and Light Templar. The bodies on the ground were unmarked, but they were lifeless; Ulreathan must have had drained them of all energy. She halted and signaled for the others to stop. Ulreathan was more powerful than Straas; he was more powerful than everyone else. She glanced over at Straas, who had locked eyes with Ulreathan. Straas' eyes narrowed. His plasma cannons unfolded up from his back, and he Ignited. Ulreathan unsheathed his twin swords and cackled.

"So. You are still alive, now with more energy to feed me," Ulreathan cackled maniacally. "You will die now slowly, Straas, and I will make sure everyone else falls while you watch, helpless."

Szcraa shifted he gaze back to Straas and stiffened, ready to battle.

"Szcraa. Get the Dark Templar to the main base. They will be needed there. I'll take care of him."

She felt unnamable emotions well up inside her. She did want Straas to die again.

"I will come through this, Szcraa. Please, take them to the encampment," said Straas, calmness in his voice. They locked eyes for a moment, and she knew it would be true. Blinking away tears of fear and anxiety, and feeling determination well up within her, she gestured for the Dark Templar to follow her and headed for the main battle.

Tarthan/Jetok plunged into battle, thousands of fighting Protoss machines and warriors at his back. A half-hour later, he was still battling fiercely. The Thres'nalop would not let up, and they were encroaching closer and closer to where the carriers would be landing. He needed more _time_.

Time was not on his side, however.

Of his carriers that had been in the atmosphere, the _Aniopith _and the _Veranath_ had been destroyed by talons and Rapiers. _Khala's Chosen_ could barely stay in the air on its damaged anti-gravity generators, and its interceptors engaged in close-quarters aerial combat with the Thres'nalop talons and Rapiers. The _Taeralyn_ had been on the other side of the mesa, and was only now joining the battle. In forty minutes the carriers up in orbit would begin landing sequence, and they would be vulnerable. He jerked his hands left and fried a Thres'nalop darkblade that had been ravaging a Protoss body on the ground.

The carriers... Both parts of him knew what they had to do... Drawing on his internal power, he charged forward, his arms spewing blue psionic death.

His sacrifice would not nearly be enough to save all, but it would buy the survivors time. Hopefully _enough_ time...

As he battled the Thres'nalop arrayed all around him, his shields began to shimmer.

_"We are part of the Khala..."_

_"...we shall never truly die."_

_"We are one with the Khala..."_

_"...Let no one of this deny."_

_"May our life bring life to our people."_

_"May our life bring death to our enemies."_

_"May our death bring hope to those who have none."_

_"May all who serve darkness feel our might."_

_"May all know us; THE KHALA'S LIGHT!"_

With that his power went into overload and his psionic energy built toward terminal levels. His last energy pulse would wipe out hundreds upon hundreds of the closely packed Thres'nalop. In their last moment of sight, Tarthan and Jetok saw that help had arrived: two hundred Dark Templar led by Szcraa the Cyberlisk.


	12. Chapter 11: Absolution

**_STEEL, SOULL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 11: Absolution**

* * *

Straas circled Ulreathan warily. The transformed Ulreathan mocked Straas as he made feints at him with his burning scythes.

"You were not strong enough before! What makes you think you are strong enough to defeat me know?"

With a scream of fury, Ulreathan rushed Straas and brought down his swords. Straas dodged, but just barely. His left shoulder burned with pain where the dark swords had scraped. Ulreathan shot backward, sheathed his swords, growled, and in a swift movement, pointed his right hand at him. Energy began to build up on the Blademaster's palm.

"_Shadow Flare_!" The same dark ball of energy that had slammed into him last time they fought smacked into him again. He flew and felt his back slam into a rock outcropping, stunning him.

Ulreathan began to advance on him, until two forms hurtled from out of nowhere and slammed into Ulreathan. The Thres'nalop commander barely stirred. With his unnatural speed, Ulreathan could have caught the figures, but he obviously did not think them important enough for that.

With a sweep of his hands he knocked the two Protoss Dark Templars sprawling to the ground. Straas recognized them. _Xavan and Thralen_! Straas leaped up to aid the Dark Templar, but another blast of energy, this time from Ulreathan's eyes, knocked him back down.

With a menacing laugh, Ulreathan lifted both Protoss by their head. As Straas watched in horror, pulses of light began to leave the two Protoss' bodies, and they began to thrash convulsively. The light traveled up Ulreathan's arms and into his body. After fifteen horrific seconds the bodies fell to the ground, lifeless, drained of energy. Dead.

_No!_

With a sudden jerk, Ulreathan shot a Protoss observer out of the sky with a crackling bolt of lighting that blasted into the drone. The ruined observer crashed to the ground, smoldering.

Slowly turning back to Straas, Ulreathan smiled a twisted Protoss smile, and advanced on him with his energy draining arms outstretched towards him.

Szcraa ducked under a blast and swept her right psi-scythe up, slashing apart a rampaging Bloodscythe. She and the cloaked Dark Templar had rushed undetected into the Thres'nalop flank. It took the insectoids two bloody minutes to notice the flanking maneuver.

The aliens whirled around only to find one apparent individual responsible for the carnage, which was far from the truth. Two hundred _plus_ one were the cause of the death and destruction. As soon as Thres'nalop sensors were in place, the Dark Templar disdained their invisibility field and concentrated all their psi energy into their warp blades and defensive fields.

The disorganization of the Thres'nalop allowed the delicate, storm-casting High Templar to maneuver onto the battlefield. The powerful psionicists began to lay down devastating sheets of psionic lighting, while other High Templar created simulacrums of Protoss warriors everywhere. Dark Archons used their feedback technique to slay darkblades, while their maelstroms froze the insectiods in their tracks. Mind-controlled Thres'nalop turned on their brethren while explosive scarab drones detonated and swept ranks of attacking Thres'nalop away. Phalanxed Dragoons and Reavers fired of destruction in volleys that temporarily cleared the area of Thres'nalop forces. Weary zealots fought with renewed vigor and strength.

The Protoss had gained the upper hand.

But only for a little while.

Several Thres'nalop Katanas and Scimitars appeared over the northern horizon. Dozens of Thres'nalop scabbards dropped off reinforcements into the safety of the Thres'nalop rear ranks. The Thres'nalop ranks swelled from the reinforcements. Szcraa looked in desperation at the oncoming capital ships, which would be in main weapons range in only 15.480 minutes.

She felt air rush towards her neck and ducked. The abdomen-spear of the steelblade passed cleanly over her head, and she swept up her right leg up. The three talons on her right leg eviscerated the Thres'nalop. As the gutted corpse slumped to the ground, she surveyed her immediate surroundings. Dozens of Thres'nalop bodies lay blasted or sliced before her, mixed with a growing number of Dark Templar corpses.

She felt an energy bolt before it drew close, and dodged it. Searching, she looked for its source. Six Thres'nalop talons were raining fire down on the Protoss with impunity, since the Dragoons were already occupied. She activated her neural targeting system, lined up the Thres'nalop fighters in her sights, and blasted the Thres'nalop fighters to bits with searing plasma.

She felt an explosion near her. Spinning to face it, she saw that it had emanated from a blasted sickle. A dozen Dragoons had ganged up on it and had taken it out with one volley.

She dashed at over 160 KPH in her Ignited state and leaped onto a rock outcropping. She opened up her chest and activated her shoulder-mounted plasma cannons, and rained iridescent teal, psionically charged Magna Needles, and blue, scorching plasma onto the Thres'nalop. She looked back north again. Only 11.912 minutes until the Scimitars were in probable weapon range. They were just passing over the northern outpost.

* * *

"_By Adun_!_ The Executor has detonated himself_!" came the psi-voice of a Protoss officer.

"_The Khala's Light technique_!_ By the gods_!"said another.

"_We need to keep that zone clear_._ The carriers are coming _down... and... _By all the gods_!_ Thres_'_nalop ships are heading this way_!"

"_We have to keep them back_._ The colonists are on those ships_!"

"_His sacrifice was not enough_._ They_'_re com—_" The transmission was lost in a crackle of static.

Traenid emerged back into consciousness, having finally collected enough energy within himself to stay awake. His abdomen sent sheets of pain to his brain, as his blue blood stained and pooled over the floor. He slumped against his chains. Esralath peered at her warp blade, then at him, then back at the weapon. With a shocked look on her face she ripped the weapon off her right arm and dropped it to the ground. She looked back at him.

"You should not have said those things." Her voice was struggling to stay even.

"Wha... Why.? You know it... its tru... true." His psi-voice was fading as his strength ebbed.

"How could it be true? Ulreathan has not hurt any of the Dark Templar. You saw so yourself. When we investigated the colonial wreckage, we did not find a single body, did we?"

"Loo... look behind... you," he stammered, as he saw what one of the holoprojection feeds was showing. Straas the Cyberlisk was battling a hideously transformed Ulreathan, but he had caught a glimpse of something off to the periphery of the screen.

"What..." she turned around, and gasped. Her voice rose to an agonized wail as the screen showed Ulreathan draining the life force out of two Protoss.

" FATHER! THRALEN! NO!" She collapsed to her knees, staring at the screen, with the twitching bodies that rapidly grew still in the transformed Protoss' grasp. Then Traenid saw her shudder, her eyes releasing green mist, the equivalent of tears. The feed broke up into static when Ulraethan pointed a finger toward the observer and blew it to pieces.

Then, as if for the first time, she looked at him, at his bleeding body, at her warp blade generator on the other side of the room. Her wail intensified.

"_WHAT HAVE I DONE! WHAT HAVE I DONE!_" She slammed her fist into a button recessed into the wall, and he felt his bonds deactivate. He slumped unto the floor, and Esralath kneeled, just staring at him for a few seconds, until she crawled over to where he lay. She cradled his head in her arms.

Sensors and alarms screamed, showing a flight of six Scimitars and four Katanas passing over their heads. The Thres'nalop were obviously not going to count the inactive antimatter cannons as dangerous.

"Esralath... activate... the anti... matter cannons. The ships... will..." He felt too weak to continue."

Her head hung in despair. "I do not know the override codes! Tarthan/Jetok only gave them to _you_."

He began to transmit them to her via his mind, but he was dying fast. He could barely stay conscious, yet alone remember the complex code and tell it to her. "I... can't... tell... you," he gasped. He felt despair well up inside him too. Then a thought came to his weary mind.

"Esralath... We must... merge."

"M... _me_! How can you merge with someone who killed you! Who can you even forgive me!"

"I forgive... y... you, Esralath."

"I do not want forgiveness! I want to be able to make up for all I have done. The Thres'nalop must be stopped."

This... is... no... not forgiveness. It... is absolution... for you. You will never forgive... your... self, even... though... _I_ do. Please... let us... do this... together," he gasped out. Esralath hesitated.

Traenind saw a flicker of some emotion pass over her eyes. She trembled slightly, then gently placed her arms around him and embraced him. He felt his rapidly numbing arms also go around her body. Her body trembled.

"I do not know how to merge, even with a Dark Templar..." she whispered.

"I am no... High Templar... either. But we wi... will try. Buh... by all that hangs... in the balance... we will... try."

Eight minutes until the Scimitars and Katanas would reach the landing carriers.

Eight minutes until all hope died.

* * *

First, he noticed that his body started to tingle. He watched in fascination as Esralath's skin turned transparent, then began to glow slightly. He looked at his arm; it was undergoing the same metamorphosis. Then he noticed that there was no more pain.

He suddenly felt consuming worry, afraid he had already died and left Esralath half-merged; but no, it was just that his physical body was being converted into psionic energy. He looked at his arm again, which was glowing blue; Esralath's was glowing a deep crimson. With nothing in this dimension to hold them up, their armor fell away, clattering to the floor. A ball of blue mixed with red engulfed them, and they felt the strain of merging. He grasped her tighter. Then something happened: it all stopped.

Nothing happened. Just the churning of the psionic sphere.

"What is happening?" Esralath whispered softly.

"I do not know."

"Dark and light are not supposed to mix. We cannot..."

Traenid felt determination rise up inside himself.

"We _can_ if we try Esralath." He felt determination rise in Esralath too.

"We can. We need do this. Lives depend on this."

They concentrated harder, their bodies continuing to merge. Then there was a flash, and he found himself in a completely new environment, unmerged. Six minutes until the Scimitars arrived...

* * *

Ulreathan's hands locked unto his head. He looked up into the transformed Protoss' eyes and clenched his jaw. He promised Szcraa that he would live through this, and he would keep his promise. This should have sealed his fate, but he knew one thing...

"Ulreathan... you have the power to steal.

"I have to the power to take back!"

In a flash, Straas shot up back to his feet, and his arms grasped Ulreathan's head. If Szcraa could give energy, he knew he had the power to take the soul energy back from Ulreathan.

As soon as he made contact with Ulreathan's head, his mind was filled with voices and images of Protoss that had fallen victim to Ulreathan. The transformed Protoss began to drain his energy; he began to weaken rapidly. His burning scythes sputtered and extinguished. Straas concentrated harder, and blue rings seemed to be transferred from Ulreathan to his own body. Then, both rings, outbound and inbound, drew still. His legs weakened from the exertion, and he knelt. Ulreathan loomed over him, scowling.

"Foolish, Straas. You can only hold me off for so long."

In something that was not sight, he saw himself and Ulreathan locked together, as if he were standing outside his own body. Wispy images of Protoss floated around them, forming a circle. Two of the Protoss ghosts were extremely clear; they were Xavan and his son Thralen. He looked up desperately at the Protoss.

"Please! _Help me_!" he pleaded.

"_You carry the hope of all races Straas_," murmured Xavan.

"_Our souls and our energy are yours now Straas. Hurry, let us relinquish our power into you, before it is too late_," whispered Thralen.

Straas wanted desperately to answer "yes". But if he did, how could he be any better than Ulreathan?

"I... I can't. I cannot take your souls or your power. It would not be... be..."

"_You are _not_ Ulreathan if we give you our souls_._ He chose to _take,_ while we choose to _give. _Straas, take our power_,_ let the evil of Ulreathan be put to good_," whispered Thralen.

"_You are the only person able to destroy Ulreathan, Straas_._ Let our souls help you_."

Somewhere in the background he heard mammoth explosions sundering the air.

The Protoss spirits all grasped him with one of their arms, then they disappeared one by one. As each soul disappeared, his surroundingds grew dimmer. Soon, all was black. Black.

With a jolt, he was looking out his own physical eyes again, staring up into Ulreathan's mutated features.

He felt his strength grow with each spirit he absorbed. The blue energy rings on his arms began to slowly travel back to his shoulders, then blaze into his body. Somewhere in the half-consciousness, he had managed to rise to his feet.

Ulreathan's eyes grew in surprise, then turned into a look of horror. With a flash of blazing light, he and Ulreathan separated explosively. He hit the boulder he had been recently pinned against, dazed.

"Damn you! This will not be our last encounter, abomination!" A dark sphere surrounded Ulreathan. The sphere flashed, and Ulreathan was there no longer.

Straas looked up, feeling the given energy inside of him awaken. He stood, and with a roar of defiance, he Ignited. With the pleas of the Dark Templar still in his mind, he took his Igniting one step further: he went Nova.

* * *

Traenid could not fathom what had happened to him. In one moment he had been dying on he floor of the northern command Nexus, and then in another instant he was here, sitting on a grassy hill. The landscape resembled Auir's, somehow mixed with images of Shakuras. He jumped to his feet, and surveyed his surroundings. Surrounding him was green grass, blue running water, and purple rocks and crystals. Looking up the hill, began to trek up the side, feeling that something was wrong, but he was not able to identify it. At the very top of the mound, he encountered Esralath. Then he got a pretty good idea of why he felt strange.

Esralath was completely naked, and so was he.

He just stared, doing his best to not let his eyes roam. Esralath tried her best too, but like him, her eyes darted very quickly over him, then stopped. She looked embarrassed and sheepish at the same time. Then her expression was changed into one of agony. She rushed into him and hugged him tightly, sobbing. He tried to ignore the fact that she was very naked.

"Traenid, I am so sorry," she sobbed into his shoulder. "I... I... By the gods I am sorry."

"Esralath. I forgive you. I really, truly do." Esralath's moved her eyes into a weak smile.

He thought about one thing in his mind.

"Esralath..."

"I know what you want to say, but I want to hear it from you."

"Esralath... I love you." He looked into her eyes, knowing.

"Traenid... I love you too." Her eyes misted, and he knew his eyes were also crying. Through their tears, they had somehow managed to lay themselves on the soft, luscious grass. His arms went around her slim, athletic body.

Strangely enough, he was not exhausted, or even tired, after they were done. Neither was Esralath.

"Do you have any idea where we are?" she asked, her head on his chest.

"I think. I remember Tarthan/Jetok sometimes mumbling to himself about how the Tarthan part of himself had pulled off a fighting maneuver on Jetok. And vice-versa," he replied, stroking the side of her face.

"Really?" said Esralath, snuggling into his arms. "Then that means that they can exist in another consciousness..."

"That is my thought also. I usually hear the Executor speaking of this after the night's rest," he held her tighter

"Then we can meet each other only every night?"

"... And be naked when we do," he said. Esralath just stared at him. Then she started to laugh. Traenid grimaced at his jibe, and continued, "Well, from what I heard, Tarthan/Jetok could 'conjure' things with his mind."

"Then I had better 'conjure' something to cover myself with; your eyes keep darting around. Not that I really mind too much."

The Dark Templar snorted in laughter. "It is not as yours are not! Do not worry, I do not mind either."

He smiled. He then closed his eyes, and concentrated on some clothing.

When he opened his eyes, he was clothed in his familiar ship clothes. Esralath was similarly clad. They both climbed to their feet.

"Let us look around."

"That would be nice."

They grasped each other's hands and explored the land. They traveled for at least six hours.

After their second "stop", they climbed up a mountain, conjuring their own respective armor to help gain traction on the steep surface. When they reached the summit, they strangely were not tired at all, not even from the day's travel. Or from other things...

They gasped when they saw what was at the peak of the mountain.

A pure white ball of energy floated and twisted before them. Traenid's eyes widened in surprise as he saw an image of the inside of the Nexus. The monitors of the command area were still transmitting...

He shot a look at Esralath, who was also wide-eyed with amazement.

"The image of the Nexus has not changed, even when we had traveled for at least six hours." Traenid whsipered, spying his chromometer.

"Traenid, we... we are an Archon. We are not governed by time," whispered Esralath.

"Then..."

"That is our entrance back into the physical world. We are here, outside of time, inside a world created from our minds."

"Then if that is the physical world, then we still have much to do," said Traenid quietly.

"Yes. Let us not do this alone. I will see you when we come back here Traenid."

"I will be awaiting that moment."

With that they took each other's hand and stepped into the swirling vortex of energy.

* * *

_They_ awoke in their new body. Traenid/Esralath looked around the Nexus command room, and noted the antimatter cannon activation key.

He/she glided over, and stopped, inspecting himself/herself. He/she was surrounded with a gray swirl of energy that twisted and pulsed. Swirling energy orbited his/her body. His/her body pulsed with energy, and he/she appeared to be a normal light Archon, but clad in the Dark Archon "armor". With growing urgency, he/she keyed in the access codes to he antimatter cannons and initialized them.

_"Only six seconds passed when we traveled for six _hours_."_

_"I did not anticipate this Esralath! We share thoughts, yet we are distinct. My thoughts are your thoughts, your thoughts are my thoughts."_

_"I have always wondered what this was like, Traenid."_

_"Let us discuss this later. We have work to finish."_

_"Let us go. _I_ owe Ulreathan _much_..."_

He/she concentrated his/her energy, and he/she teleported outside the Nexus in a backwash of wispy energy. With a roar of power and fury, Traenid/Esralath flew into battle.

* * *

5.036 minutes left. Szcraa flashed her psi-scythes, and Thres'nalop fell dead before her. She looked desperately around. One hundred Dark Templar had already fallen under the seemingly endless onslaught of the Thres'nalop. The Scimitars were getting closer, and the ground forces were pressing nearer. She had personally slain hundreds of the insectiods, but that would not be enough. The carriers would not be safe when they landed. For them to survive, let alone win, would take a miracle.

Three miracles happened.

Szcraa saw a pure streak of white flame shooting toward the battle, almost too fast for her to track effectively. Any Thres'nalop that tried to impede the flaming beacon was either scorched or sliced apart in blinding speed as it passed.

Huge spheres of blue energy began to fly from the northern outpost into the rear of the scabbards, Scimitars, and Katanas.

A mysterious, strange Archon suddenly _appeared_ with a flash by her side.

The white, burning figure skidded to a stop near her. It was Straas, but not Straas when she had left him.

"I told you I would be fine," said Straas with a glowing smile. A flaming white body, but the same Straas. She felt like crying and laughing at the same time.

His scythes were no longer burning with a blue-white flame, now it was pure white, the purest light. His eyes were glowing with white light, and he emanated an air of power. His reddish skin glowed white.

"The Thres'nalop will feel the fury of Nova power."

The Scimitars and Katanas began to fall, as they succumbed to the fire from a "neutralized" base. The antimatter cannons then directed their fury into the sky, striking at unseen orbital ships.

The Archon raised his—no, _his_/_her_, since she somehow perceived that it was Traenid and Esralath merged—and called down lighting from the sky. The gray-glowing psionic entity raised his/her arms to the heavens and called down wave after wave of psychic electricity from out of the blue, and Thres'nalop halted in place, as if held in the bonds of the maelstrom. Others, in a mass, turned on their neighbors and began to attack, mind-controlled. A blue shaft of energy exploded from the Archon's right arm, while a red beam emanated from the being's left one, incinerating enemy after screeching enemy.

Straas leaped into battle, his white torches flashing, striking fear into foes and awe into friends. His Magna Needles were glowing arrows of radiance, while his plasma cannons rained hot, white, fiery death onto Thres'nalop. He moved with speed and strength she could never, ever match. One moment he was here, then in a blaze of light, he was one hundred meters away, all in the space of a few milliseconds.

The Protoss, weary of battle, saw the symbols of hope, and rallied; first holding, then shoving back the petrified Thres'nalop. The orbital carriers, free from the threat of the Katanas and Scimitars, descended and began to rain firepower from above with hundreds of interceptors.

Szcraa shook herself out of the surprise, and then rejoined the battle. She danced from here to there, slicing with white-emerald flaming blades and blasting the countless enemies with green-white Needles. Then suddenly, abruptly, all was silent.

She peered over the battlefield. Dust wafted away from Protoss and Thres'nalop bodies and wreckage that was strewn about. The Thres'nalop were destroyed to the last, with none even attempting to escape. She looked at Straas, who had changed back to his red-colored, crimson-eyed self. She ran over to him and threw her arms around her lover.

"Straas..."

"I did it, Szcraa. I defeated Ulreathan. At least... at least for now."

"And gained unimaginable power in the process..."

"As it turns out," he said, smiling slightly, "I am an energy sink, since you are an energy tap."

"Incredible..." she said, laying her head on his muscular chest.

She turned and saw the grayish psionic entity floating next to them.

"Hello, Traenid/Esralath," Szcraa said to the Archon.

"Greetings, Szcraa, Straas." The Archon's voice was a mix of his/her two parts. "It is beautiful here..."

"I'm sure it is, friend. I... how does it feel, to be formed of two opposite energies?"

"Nothing that we expected. It is strange. Instead of pushing against each other, we are very close; it is like our energies _want_ to be together." He/she said, his/her voice echoing.

"Opposites attract..." Szcraa said under her breath.

"Straas!" Came the psi-voice of Rethoj the Khalai. "We have detected two dozen Thres'nalop capital ships leaving from Sawea's moon. They are heading to the world where we recovered you!"

She looked at Straas. "The Dominion doesn't know what it's going against! We have to reinforce them!"

"With what? Four carriers have been destroyed, and four more carriers can barely stay in the air, much less fight," came the voice of Traenid/Esralath.

"So what? Innocents, like these Dark Templar, are about to be massacred, their life-force feeding Ulreathan. We must help them! If the Thres'nalop take that world, then they will grow stronger and stronger, and Ulreathan will become unstoppable." She stopped, suddenly grasping it. "He plans to seize the coordinates of all the Terran star systems. If he does that, then nothing will be able to stop him!"

All three—four?—of them stood still, pondering.

"We shall leave a small detachment of warriors here to help reestablish the colony, but we will assist the people of Waj Norhal. After all, we _were _on a mission to resupply the colony," said Traenid/Esralath. She and Straas nodded.

They headed to the carriers.


	13. Chapter 12: Homeward Bound

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 12: Homeward Bound**

* * *

It took them four days, but the Gray Shadow Fleet was fit to leave. _True Light_, _Starsong_, _Aniopith_, and _Venerath_ had been destroyed in the great battle, and _Thunder Blade_ and_ Final Judgment_ were too damaged to be spaceworthy. The two crippled carriers would stay on the world and watch over the fledgling colony, serving as guardians and industrial centers for the time being. The carriers _Phantasm_, _Khala_'_s Chosen_, _Taeralyn_, _Aiur's Fist_, _Lirot_, _Khala's Fury_, _Kelenir_, _Vindicator_, _Star Reaver_, and _Raksala_ were ready to depart.

The carrier _High Destiny_ and the Arbiter _Might of the Khala_ were out hunting Thres'nalop ships. Szcraa hoped that the two Protoss starships did not find any Thres'nalop. The powerful Thres'nalop flotilla could rip the two Protoss ships apart.

Miraculously, all the Arbiters, _Revarus_, _Archoleth_, _Comet Streak_, _Scantid Claw_, and _Tassadar_ had emerged unscathed from the orbital battle, and were ready to depart.

Since Traenid had been second-in-command, Traenid/Esralath became the new Executor. Tarthan/Jetok's noble sacrifice had given the defenders enough time to allow Straas—and Traenid/Esralath—to arrive.

_Executor_ Traenid/Esralath exited the command Nexus and glided over to her.

"Are you ready to depart Szcraa?" the grayish Archon inquired.

"I'm ready. I just want to look at the landscape a little longer..."

"That is fine. We depart in six hours," he/she said.

The Gray Archon glided away, awash in gray fire. Szcraa looked back at Traenid/Esralath, then peered out over the mesa to the scorched land, damaged by the weapons of the fighters.

Rethoj had told Traenid and Esralath had created a completely new type of Archon, which they were allowed to name themselves. The two decided on "Gray Archon". With the raging power of an Archon wielded in their arms, and the cloaking power normally available to the Dark Templar, the Gray Archon was powerful already. To add to the immense power, they had the capacity to launch the combined powers of both the High Templars and the Dark Archons. Psionic storm, hallucination, mind control, maelstrom, and feedback only added to his/her already immense strength.

Szcraa turned her mind back to Straas. He had transcended beyond the Ignited state, and had advanced to Nova status, which he had labeled his new power level. From what he had told her, Straas had gained his newfound energy when he had reabsorbed the Protoss souls and psi energies back from Ulreathan.

Szcraa suddenly sensed his presence and turned. Her lover stepped up next to her and placed a muscular arm around her waist, shifting it so he wouldn't jostle her folded-down plasma cannons. She laid her head on his shoulder and encircled him with an arm also.

"How did it feel to go Nova, Straas?"

"I felt... I do not know how to describe it. I just felt... stronger; faster than ever. All the while, I could hear murmurs of Xevan, and Thralen, and... and... It was so dark at first. I didn't know if I could hold all that energy. " He stopped, as if overwhelmed.

"It's okay, Straas. You have been through a lot, and I will always be here to help you," she said to Straas.

"I know Szcraa. That is one reason why I love you. And I will always be there for you too, Szcraa."

They just stood there for a quarter of an hour, holding each other, looking over the landscape that had been ravaged by battle, just thinking.

"I love you," Szcraa said to Straas, turning towards him.

"And I," Straas murmured as his face drew closer to hers, "will always love you."

She felt Straas' mouth lock onto hers, and their mandibles grasped. After a half minute of the warmness, they parted. She smiled up at Straas and again wrapped her arm around his body, feeling his encircle her. They walked back to the command Nexus. Five more hours until the fleet departed.

* * *

Straas gazed out from the carrier window out at the passing, blurring stars. The distant points of light reminded of him of how the energy of the Protoss he had assimilated had looked like. He still felt pain for what he had taken, but he had finally accepted it as necessary, if not completely right. He felt anguish still, anguish for having to decide whether to take the life-force into himself, or to let the spirits free.

"_You know what the right choice was Straas... And you picked it_,"came the voice of Xevan, resounding in his head.

Every once and a while, he heard a Protoss somewhere unknown speak to him, perhaps through the bond they shared. They gave him advise, consulted with him on his problems, and even spoke to him like a good friend. But he could never be truly a friend to the souls he communicated with.

Shaking the deceased Protoss' voice out of his head, he consulted his internal chronometer. It told him it was almost time for dinner. He looked forward to being with Szcraa. And talking with her. Yes, talk would be good. Just talk.

Through his near-constant anguish, Szcraa was at his side, comforting him. They had grown impossibly closer than ever before, and they shared a bond akin to what he shared with the Protoss souls.

Turning away from the view of hyperspace, he turned on his heel and headed toward the eating area.

* * *

Szcraa looked up at Straas as he entered, looking majestic as ever. He slid into his seat beside her, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. It trembled slightly beneath her touch.

"Do they still... talk to you?" she asked delicately.

"Yes. They always will," he replied, his shoulder stilling and his voice becoming strong.

"Straas, what you did on Sawea was right. They gave you access to their energies, and you used the power for good, to halt Ulreathan. If it were not for you—"

" —And two dozen Protoss souls—" he cut in bitterly.

" —Ulreathan would have conquered the world with ease, and the whole galaxy could be in danger. I would be _dead_, along with countless innocents. Stop knocking yourself down for what _you_ think is wrong, Straas."

Straas just stared at her for a second, then looked down at his plate, which was fresh bengalaas meat from Sawea, something better after the increasingly boring stasis-frozen rhynadon..

"I'm... I'm sorry Szcraa. I didn't mean to sound like that."

"It's okay Straas," she said to Straas soothingly. "Let's talk about something else."

They ate the meal conversing on mundane things, like which particular Protoss warrior was better fighter, or what color an ideal carrier should be.

Strangely, she was still hungry after she devoured her plate of meat. Straas looked at her questioningly, and slid over the remainder of his platter. She tried to look apologetic.

"I don't know why I'm hungry all of a sudden," she said as she devoured the meal.

For the past few days, she had been eating twice what she normally ate.

Straas just waved the comment off.

After finishing their meal, they departed and returned to their room. Straas sat on the floor beside his mat, his head in his hands. Szcraa went over to him and began to caress his back, which seemed to relieve him.

"Thank's Szcraa. You have... always been there for me."

"Straas!" she said in surprise. "You have always been there for me too, and you have saved my life." Straas said nothing. Instead of speaking, he reached out and grasped her hands. She sat down next to him and they enfolded each other. She and Straas were still as energetic as ever, and she was exhausted after they finished.

"Szcraa... I don't know if I can ever thank you enough. For being there for me when I need it. Or for just being you," Straas whispered.

"Straas, I love you. I could never keep myself from comforting you, whether it be physical, emotional, or mental. You would do the same for me."

Straas just looked at her, a few tears dripping from his eyes. He wiped them off his face. Suddenly, he grinned a little.

"Szcraa, I just noticed something when you put your weight on me. According to my computers, you have gained about 10 kilograms. I guess that is where all that extra food you have been eating has been going."

She looked at him in exasperation. "Is that what you care about? My _weight_?" she laughed. Straas chuckled softly. It was something two lovers joked over.

They stopped laughing and looked each other in the eye. Their faces drew together so that they were only inches away.

"Szcraa, I love you."

"I love you too, Straas," she said as sleep began to close her eyes. Right before she drifted off, she sensed other minds in the vicinity of her body. She was going to wonder what they were, but then sleep overcame her.

* * *

They sat under darkening skies. Traenid draped an arm over Esralath's lightly clothed shoulder, feeling her muscles underneath the light fabric. By both concentrating, both he and Esralath had both been able to slow down their relative time, until they were achieving a five hours for every two seconds of realtime ratio. They could speed up time if they wanted to.

Esralath looked out toward a sunset over some gently crashing waves. This time, they had conjured up a large island, with beaches that blended the white sands of Aiur and the blue and turquoise pebbles of Sawea. The water was a clear blue, and the descending sun shimmered on the waves. He tapped into her mind.

She was remembering back, back to when they had first ever met, back to when they had first sparred, back to the time when... she had stabbed him. Esralath's eyes locked with his. Her psi-voice was little more than a whisper.

"I have many regrets. My largest is that I never got to correct many things in the physical world. That I never got to greet my family one last time." Pain clouded the Dark Templar's eyes.

"We all have our regrets. My regret is that I never got to state my love for you in a peaceful situation." He looked solemnly at her.

"That is true. You were able to say 'I love you' when you were down dying on the floor." Esralath's eyes flickered with sorrow, then the look disappeared.

They just sat silently for a long time, looking off into the beauty of the setting sun. He had a thought.

"I wonder if it is possible for us to be able to exist separately, even for a limited time, in the physical world," he said suddenly.

"Probably not, but I am willing to try." She smiled weakly.

They concentrated and joined their hands. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes. He gazed into Esralath's eyes and smiled.

"I didn't think it would work. Nothing but wishful thinking."

He noticed Esralath's eyes were opened in disbelief, staring at something beyond his shoulder.

"What..." he began. He twisted around and peered behind him. He nearly fell off of his bed.

* * *

He was peering at his old room that he had had aboard the _Phantasm_. It had not changed much, except that his belongings were removed.

"I... how... what... how..." All he could do was babble.

They were in _his_ room, inexplicably, impossibly. His stare shot back to Esralath. She was dressed in pure black clothes, which were composed of a light, loose top and leggings. A swirling black cloak rode on her back. Her unrestricting clothes glittered with obsidian colored crystals.

He examined himself. His clothes were pure white, Esralath's opposite. His white top was adorned with glittering silver metal, and the legs of his suit mounted stripes of the same silvery metal. His clothing appeared to be the same design and make of Esralath's, discounting the color. He touched his forehead, and noticed his prized golden headband was not there. Esralath's black crystal armband was missing from her as well.

He just stared at her, and Esralath stared back at him.

"_How_ in the name of all the gods did we do _this_?" Esralath cried out.

"I do not believe this. This has to be another part of the world we created."

"Then let us try to alter it..."

They concentrated, but nothing happened. Shaking his head, he tried again. Nothing.

They were really inside the physical world again, but separate.

"Let us see Rethoj. He might be able to explain this..." Esralath suggested in a whisper.

"What would Rethoj know of this? He is a Khalai," he retorted.

"The who should we talk to then?"

He thought on that for a few seconds, then came up with an answer.

"Straas and Szcraa."

* * *

Straas could not believe his eyes. _Or my sensors for that matter_. _They show _two_ separate beings in our room_. At first he had thought it a dream, one in which Traenid and Esralath had shown up in his room, unmerged. Past the initial shock came disbelief, then gradual acceptance. The two Protoss had told he and Szcraa of how they had concentrated hard, and how they had emerged separate from each other.

"Why did you go to us first?" asked Szcraa.

"I don't know. We just wanted to talk to someone who..." Esralath trailed off.

"...Who are not normal," finished Szcraa.

He and Szcraa just looked at them. He felt pleased that they were the two Protoss' friends.

"It is so hard to describe the world we live in," said Traenid suddenly.

He wondered what that meant. It was obvious he and Szcraa had puzzled expressions on their faces.

"During resting hours, we exist in a world of our own making, and the worlds can be varied from night to night. We are separate during that period, and we can control our relative time so that it's about two and a half hours for every one of your seconds. Esralath and I can concentrate and alter our world to our liking."

The four of them stood staring at each other.

"How much longer until we reach Waj Norhal?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"At our present speed we will reach Waj Norhal orbit in two weeks," answered Traenid.

That seemed way too much time for Straas. The Thres'nalop could divert from their course and hit the interior worlds, like Aiur, Char, Shakuras, or the Korhal system. "That is a long time. I think we should stop for a brief moment and transmit a signal. The Thres'nalop could have easily hit one of the core systems..." he expressed his concerns.

"We know that, Straas," answered Esralath. "But when we left hyperspace and tried to initiate a transmission, we were not even able to get a lock. Something seems to be blocking our communications. He have tried twelve different times, at different locations."

He was shocked. Straas did not even want to know what could by strong enough to block hyperspace communications at the level of over two hundred light years! Then it came to him

"Ulreathan..." he growled.

"He has to be stopped," muttered Szcraa.

>Especially for what he did to _you_. No one will take you away from me again...> She transmitted via comlink.

>I hope so Szcraa. I hope so...>

* * *

The separate beings Esralath and Traenid were not there the next day. Instead, Szcraa saw only the Gray Archon Traenid/Esralath. She wondered if last night was a dream, because what had happened had been so bizarre.

>It wasn't,> laughed Straas over the comlink.

>It was a rhetorical question...> she retorted. She turned just in time to see Straas exit the command room of the _Phantasm_. She sighed and scanned the recent bad news of the Gray Shadow Fleet.

In the early hours, the carrier _Kelenir_ had suffered a damaged engine drive, severely slowing its speed. The journey would now take at least three weeks, instead of the one and one-half before. Also, they would need to stop for supplies at a world only designated as "L-867".

She disconnected from the Protoss computer, and went to the training area. Straas was already there, swinging at spheres that popped out from nine directions. To her surprise, he almost looked almost bored. _And at level 28!_ she noted. The next level advanced, and Straas' body became a blur. She noted that still not one ball struck him. Finally, level 30 came up, and Straas was moving almost too fast for her to see clearly. _That's what I must look like when I do level 30_...

Suddenly, the machine shut down, and Straas stepped out of the test area. He grinned broadly and said, "You're next."

She rubbed his shoulder and went over to the strength tester. She dialed the wall power up to 25 and braced herself.

She smiled triumphantly as she stepped out of the strength test area, and was greeted with Straas' look of congratulations. She had barely managed to push back the level 30 wall, nearly stumbling, but she had pushed the force-wall back.

"Perhaps my extra 10 kilos helped anchor myself," she said. Straas chuckled.

Afterwards she was downright exhausted, and Straas slung an arm over and led the both of them back to their room. Szcraa was asleep before she hit the mattress.

* * *

The next two weeks had some good news. The _Kelenir_ had managed to repair the broken engine, and they were almost to the world L-867. Traenid/Esralath gazed over the command bridge and the numerous Protoss Khalais and Templar working the controls. The holograms next to him/her showed the dark vacuum of space, with the glowing pinpoints of stars here and there. They would reach L-867 soon and quickly gather supplies, two days at most

"Executor! We are detecting an electromagnetic anomaly a few hundred kilometers ahead of us!" Rang out the psi-voice of Deneras, the bridge pilot. "It appears we cannot circumvent it; it stretches out beyond the range of our sensors."

"Can we go through it?" He/she asked.

"It appears we can. While it has volume, I can detect no mass."

Traenid/Esralth weighed the possibilities, and decided.

"Proceed... very slowly."

"Yes, Executor," acknowledged Deneras. "Proceeding. Approximate time until arrival is one hour.

An hour later, they were at the edge of the anomaly.

"Entering."

Then the whole world turned upside down with a crash.


	14. Chapter 13: Anomaly

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 13: Anomaly**

* * *

Traenid/Esralath picked himself/herself off the floor. The _Phantasm_ had seemed to flip for a second, then revert itself right back up.

"Deneras, report." He/she groaned.

"I am not sure what just happened, Executor," said the helmsman, rubbing his head. "It appears that the anomaly has just transported us to some unknown part of this galaxy. Sensors show that we are more than three times the distance ever traveled by Protoss ships!"

"Can we reenter the anomaly and get back to our previous location?" He/she inquired.

"No. We seem to have lost the anomaly on our sensors."

"Hmmm..." He/she muttered, "Are there any planetary bodies in the vicinity?"

"We do detect one planet, about the size of Shakuras, orbited by two moons. I... by Adun!" gasped Deneras.

"What is it?" Traenid/Esralath boomed out.

"It cannot be... We seem to have another electromagnetic anomaly on the surface of the planet."

"Elaborate," he/she told his second-in-command.

"I can make not judgment as of now, Executor," confessed Deneras. "I suggest we give the Khalais some time to analyze this phenomenon.

"Suggestion accepted, Deneras.

* * *

"Judging from data gathered by our sensors, some of our Khalais surmise that this magnetic disturbance can lead us to an area close to the Terran world of Waj Norhal!" finished the helmsman, psi-voice trembling.

"Hmm... Proceed towards the disturbance that will take us to Waj Norhal. Have all sensors to full range; I want to make sure no Thres'nalop..." he/she stopped, suddenly realizing. They _could not_ go back, not without a possible Thres'nalop fleet following them into it... and emerging into human space.

"Executor," again rang our Deneras, "we are detecting one reading on the planet surface. It identifies itself as the Arbiter _Might of the Khala_. It reports the Thres'nalop pursued them into the same anomaly only days ago.

"Put the commander aboard on communications."

"Done."

A holographic picture of a Protoss Judicator appeared in front of him/her. The Judicator looked haggard, as if he had been through too much

"Greetings, Judicator. I am the new Executor, Traenid/Esralath."

The Judicator's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What happened to Executor Tarthan/Jetok?"

"He was lost in the battle of Sawea. By virtue of my previous rank, I became the Executor."

The Judicator lost the suspicious look. It was replaced with a tired, withdrawn expression.

"I am sorry to hear of the great Executor's demise. But it seems we again have an... Archon Executor."

"I share similar sentiments. Report."

"Approximately thirty-six hours ago we encountered a huge fleet of Thres'nalop ships, consisting of at least four dozen cruiser-class warships and two dozen carriers. Escorting these ships were at least four hundred armed transports. I ordered _Might of the Khala_ to stand down, and keep a low profile. However, even with our cloaking, the _High Destiny_ was detected. Six cruisers and a carrier detached from the Thres'nalop flotilla to engage us.

"Carrier Commander Kivarel aboard the _High Destiny_ ordered me to take the Arbiter away from battle, while he held them off. The _High Destiny_ was overwhelmed and completely destroyed in less than seven minutes. The_ Might of the Khala_ had put a considerable margin between itself and the battle, but enemy single-ships closed in and damaged us severely. We only escaped by activating a stasis field and slipping away," finished the Judicator.

Executor Traenid/Esralath swore to himself/herself. The loss of one carrier would count in the upcoming battle.

"Judicator," he/she said, shaking himself/herself out of the his/her thoughts, "dock with the carrier _Kelenir_ to initiate repairs. We will need everything we can throw at the Thres'nalop.

"It shall be done, Executor," said the Judicator of the _Might of the Khala_. Traenid/Esralath turned to Deneras. "Order all carriers, except _Auir's Fist _and _Star Reaver_ to begin orbit around the world. _Auir's Fist _and _Star Reaver_ will set up a perimeter. As soon as an area is secure, ground warriors will set up a defensive base around the anomaly. I want two dozen antimatter cannons up within eighteen hours!"

* * *

To the Khalais' praise, _three­-_dozen antimatter cannons were built and operational within twenty hours. The robotic probes had also worked admirably, having set up dozens of command nexuses, which were being used to transmit useful minerals into space, which the carriers refined into a workable material. The resulting alloys were then used by the carriers to build structures and robotic units, which were then beamed back down upon request. All ships, even the Arbiters, were being used as factory ships to construct. As the Khalais finished up their work on the antimatter cannons, over 500 new "Strikers" had been built. Looking vaguely like a scantid, the flying machines had two forward facing pulse cannons and an overhead "tail", which contained the sensor packages and cloaking generators. The little craft flew much faster then a scout, but it was lightly armored. Nevertheless, the combination of speed, cloaking, and advanced sensors made the Striker a good attack craft. Along with this, a large number of Thres'nalop hardware had been captured for study.

As it turned out, the sparking weapons used by the noblades and daggers were really an energy-encased piece metal shaped like a five-pointed star. The claw-like spark rifles loaded the star on a track between the two claws. Then magnetic pulses accelerated the stars to high speeds, while the tracks of the spark rifle encased the projectile in a sheath of energy. Combined together, the mass of the star and the heat of the energy casing proved devastating. However, the spark weapons required a lot of energy to function, therefore keeping relative power-to-weight ratios low.

The nuclear cannons utilized by the Thres'nalop sickles were another story. Beginning with a hydrogen-based explosion, the plasma of the miniature nuclear weapon was held in place by powerful magnets inside the barrel of the cannon. Not able to go anywhere except up the barrel, the atomic energy would fire from the bore of the cannon, resulting in severely damaging blasts. The only drawback was that sickles seemed to have an extremely low ammunition capacity; at most, only twelve "nuclear shells" could be carried on the sickle.

Lastly, the thick, spear-like weapons used by Thres'nalop darkblades that fired powerful beams of invisible, rippling energy, were classified as gluon cannons. Gluons, which held the quarks and leptons of subatomic particles together, were in part responsible for the Big Bang. When enough gluons were ripped from electrons and protons, they built up inside the cannons breech, and were released in a devastating ripple of atomic force. The powerful gluon cannons were much more devastating than the sickles' nuclear cannons, weight for weight. But they had an extremely long recharge time, and only a Thres'nalop as massive and strong as a darkblade could wield it. For this he/she was grateful.

Executor Traenid/Esralath remembered the moment at hand and waited for the Thres'nalop fleet to show up. The Protoss warriors were ready for them, hundreds of newly built Reavers and assault shuttles stood on standby. He/she looked to the sky, and to the darkness that would soon emerge.

* * *

It began when the observer farthest out detected a ship coming out of warp space. Then it was followed by another.

And another.

And another.

Thirty minutes later, the Thres'nalop armada of over three hundred capital ships was on its way towards them. Another twenty-four hours until the entire Thres'nalop fleet reached them. Aboard the _Phantasm_, Traenid/Esralath spoke:

"This is the final test, warriors. Hold strong, knowing that we defend Auir and all life in the galaxy!"

* * *

Szcraa looked up vainly into the sky as the alarm signaling Thres'nalop sounded. She initiated all her systems, and felt herself slip into battle mode. _Plasma cannons fully charged_... _Magna Needles at optimum load_..._ Energy output at one hundred percent_..._ all sensors active_... _Organic parts at full strength_..._ Goliath-III legs fully operational_. She finished her diagnostic just as her mate did.

Straas looked at her, his expression unreadable. She walked up to Straas, and grasped his hands with hers. She looked up into his face, a face which she cared very much about. She again thought about his own internal pains and sorrows. Protoss souls talked to him, he possessed power beyond imagination, and had died. She leaned into him, and put her head on his beige chest. They just held each other for a while, not speaking. They separated and kissed.

"Take care love," he said to her.

"Keep well," she answered Straas.

The two of them moved to their assigned position. ETA of the Thres'nalop fleet was thirty minutes.


	15. Chapter 14: Lance and Shield

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 14: Lance And Shield**

* * *

The space battle began with the launching of twenty-four "Seraph" interceptors from each of the nine carriers in orbit, plus the eighty interceptors from the _Phantasm_, for a grand total of two hundred ninety-six attack craft. The Seraph interceptors were the brainchild of Khalai Rethoj himself, and they proved deadly. With a higher control distance, the new craft could operate almost three times the distance of the normal interceptors. The Seraph interceptors were so named because their enhanced drives sent out distinct ion trail, giving it a glowing, angelic look. Their new engines allowed them to operate at mind-boggling speeds, at least three times that of the original interceptor. Enhanced pulse cannons rounded out the impressive performance of the drone craft.

Traenid/Esralath watched as the fighter craft slammed into the Thres'nalop fleet, which was still too far away to engage the Protoss fleet with their main weapons. The graceful, glowing Seraphs lashed out with pulse cannons. However, the sheer power and numbers of the powerful Thres'nalop fighters and capital ships overwhelmed the speedy craft. Nevertheless, the drones bought enough time, giving the Arbiters the chance to activate a stasis lock on a dozen of the capital ships, and a double handful of the single-ships. The Arbiters then were recalled away by two more Arbiters that had been holding station next to the carriers. Traenid/Esralath looked over his/her scanners. Three Thres'nalop Katanas and Scimitars were disabled by the Seraphs, and four more severely damaged. Fifteen more had been caught in the stasis lock. Two dozen talons and Rapiers were disabled. _Not enought. Not nearly enough_. He/she opened the fleet-wide communications net.

"All units, be prepared to activate battle plan Tarthan's Lance."

The carriers of the fleet broke formation, surrounded by another twenty-four Seraphs. The maneuver would have been suicidal, not allowing the carriers to interlace their interceptors for a stouter defense. But he/she knew that was a lost cause. There were much too many Thres'nalop ships for them to counter. So something else had to be done.

The carriers spread out thinly, keeping their prows faced towards the enemy fleet. Soon a box of carriers were holding station in space, Arbiters interspaced every few kilometers. As the Thres'nalop closed in, Traenid/Esralath gave a command over the communications net.

"_Activate the planet-crushers_!"

Energy began to build up at the front of each Protoss ship, each roiling ball of force powerful enough to slag a planet. Each of the ships had been given a coordinate to fire to, hoping that the greatly inaccurate weapons could hit something.

"_FIRE_!"

* * *

The crisscrossing beams of devastating energy ravaged the Thres'nalop fleet, the searing white rays of devastating power going through Thres'nalop ships like a psi-blade through flesh. Four score of Thres'nalop ships were drifting dead in space. The plan was a success! Now, for the hard part.

"All ships, head to the surface. Commence battle plan Jetok's Shield!"

* * *

As a command sequence was fed in, Traenid/Esralath noted that the Strikers had activated. The two hundred strike drones assigned to the ambush roared to life, their engines accelerating them towards the Thres'nalop fleet. The Thres'nalop didn't detect the drones until it was too late. The scorpion-tailed drones began strafing runs on the Thres'nalop capital ships, sowing damage with their strike blasters. The cloaked drones destroyed two Katanas, four Scimitars, and a handful of fighters, but were simply overwhelmed when the Thres'nalop concentrated their sensor nets on the area and opened fire. Traenid/Esralath was impressed with the trade-off. The drones were all destroyed, but not before six Thres'nalop capital ships hung ruined space. The Thres'nalop battle fleet headed toward the planet. ETA five minutes.

* * *

The antimatter cannons began to roar, taking out the swarming Thres'nalop ships. Transports spiraled in maneuvered, and were blown out of existence by the antimatter cannons and defense fire from the lighter photon cannons and Dragoons. But only a fraction of the invading ships were destroyed. The majority reached the ground, and began disgorging prodigious numbers of Thres'nalop strains. Daggers, sickles, and Bloodscythes exited the transporting scabbards. Surviving talons, Rapiers, and scabbards swooped overhead, pounding the Protoss defenders from the sky. Phase disrupter spheres and glowing photon blasts reached from the ground, striking down air and ground units alike.

The Protoss had dug into the valley where the anomaly was detected. Apparently, the gravitic phenomenon was inside an ancient-looking temple of some sort, which was sealed up tight. The gray, ornate temple sparkled with undermined jewels. It was built similar to a pyramid, spanning eighty meters square. The Executor had made sure that no one ventured into the ancient structure.

The powerful antimatter cannons and lesser photon canons held passes through the mountains. More firepower was arrayed around the temple.

Finally, after thirty minutes of fierce fighting, the Thres'nalop were through the mountains, and were on the expansive valley, only seven kilometers away from the source of the energy readings. Another ring of cannons guarded the temple holding the gravitic disturbance. At only five kilometers from the temple, the Thres'nalop forces slammed into the ring of outnumbered Protoss defenders.

Straas dodged to the left, cleanly avoiding a falling darkblade's arm. He thrust up, his azure-white flaming scythe jabbing up through its stomach. The dead Thres'nalop keeled over. He whirled to the left, and deflected an incoming bolt of energy with his left blade. He spotted the source, a lone sickle surrounded by noblades. A quick two-shot burst from his plasma cannons ended that threat.

He noticed a large group of huddled noblades and stoneblades in between two rock outcroppings. He smiled grimly, then charged them. The noblades fired of their spark rifles as the stoneblades crouched into attack position. At the last moment, he leaped up and to the right, evading the seeking sparks and blades. Using the momentum of his leap to coil up his legs, he jumped to the left wall and down, at the same time striking with his psi-scythes. Six Thres'nalop fell down dead as he passed. Upon reaching the other side, he allowed his momentum to again coil his legs, then he sprang again, moving deeper into the outcroppings. He repeated the back-and-forth wall attacks until the Thres'nalop in the area were dead.

He settled to the ground, and peered at the Protoss lines. The Protoss numbers were slowly dwindling, as the Thres'nalop seemed to come in an endless tide. He braced his blue-white flaming self to await the next wave of attackers.

* * *

Szcraa was two hundred meters from Straas' position, her jade-white flaming scythes flashing. She had mostly occupied herself with neutralizing the air units, freeing the scouts and Corsairs to continue ground support roles. She spied a flight of talons off to her left. Her neural targeting system was already deployed, so she just lined up her crosshair with the aircraft and fired off a burst from her plasma cannons. Crackling blue rays of energy struck the Thres'nalop fighters out of the sky.

A buzz warned her of an incoming spark. She jumped, but not fast enough. The glancing blow from the spark seared her thigh. She cursed her extra weight.

She spun to her left, lifting her right scythe. A darkblade's top left hook _spanged _off her psi-scythe, and she dispatched it with a kick that slashed open the creatures' belly. She could only pause a second, as a small group of five-armed steelblades converged on her. She hopped backwards and opened her chest carapace, raining green psi-powered Magna Needles on the screeching aliens. The Needles exploded, slaughtering the rushing insectoids.

Getting a moment of breathing time, she peered around her quickly. Zealots battled hand-to-hand with stoneblades, steelblades, and monstrous darkblades. The valiant Protoss warriors swung and slashed, fighting for their lives. Cybernetic Dragoons traded fire with weak noblades, all the while scrambling around to avoid the powerful nuclear cannons of the Thres'nalop sickles. The Dragoons relied on the zealot lines to keep the close-range melee Thres'nalop from swarming them. Zealots wielding energy weapons blasted awya with the Dragoons.

Szcraa saw a handful of zealots and a Dragoon perish when a sickle opened fire point-blank with its three powerful nuclear cannons. A group of zealots charged at the walker, and set their psi-blades to the machine, slicing the six-legged vehicle apart. A roaring darkblade incinerated two zealots with a well-placed gluon cannon shot and crippled another, but the surviving zealots, crying for blood, eviscerated the Thres'nalop.

A handful of swift hovering daggers swept by photon cannons, firing their heavy spark cannons.

Four of the five attacking daggers swerved away in time, but one did not, and was reduced to scrap by the photon cannons. Two more were destroyed when a zooming scarab fired from a Reaver detonated within a meter of them. The two surviving daggers skimmed away towards Thres'nalop lines, ready to regroup. Szcraa did not give them a chance to do so, and blasted them with a volley of Magna Needles. Spying a section where Protoss defenders were being ravaged, she shot to the area, and began dealing out more death.

* * *

The carriers in orbit managed to distract the Thresn'nalop ships long enough for the antimatter cannons to target the enemy ships. Four Katanas had already fallen to the powerful weapons, and a Scimitar was barely able to move, so damaged it was. It would soon be targeted and finished off.

The _Phantasm_ and the other ships had reached the atmosphere, and were providing support for the antimatter cannons. The Scimitars were playing a dangerous game with the antimatter cannons. The Scimitars would randomly change their vectors, hoping to confuse the sensors, all the while firing their heavy nuclear and spark cannons. The match was endurance versus speed, as two antimatter hits were enough to reduce a Thres'nalop ship to fragments. However, given enough time and provided they kept from being hit by the spheres of energy, the Thres'nalop ships could penetrate the sturdy shields and blast the cannons to pieces. As the carriers and Arbiters swooped down into the atmosphere in a fiery entry fireball, the Seraph interceptors and phase disruptor cannons opened up holes in the Thres'nalop lines.

If Traenid/Esralath had a Terran jaw, it would have dropped. The Thres'nalop were _everywhere_. At his rate, even the fortified base surrounding the gravitic anomaly would fall. The _Phantasm_ zoomed over the Protoss ground troops, using its Seraphs as a type of screen. After using the sensors to survey the battlefield, he/she decided to assist directly.

"Deneras, I will travel to the ground to assist in the defense. Templar Deneras, you have command of the aerial forces," he/she said. Deneras just nodded in assent.

The executor concentrated his/her energy, and teleported to the command Nexus at the base of the temple. The surprised Khalai manning the communications station nearly fell out of his seat. With a nod towards the shocked technician, he/she glided outside.

At full speed, he/she reached the front lines in less than two minutes. The embattled Protoss and Thres'nalop were fighting full tilt, the ground littered with bodies. He/she lifted up his/her hands and blasted red and white energy from different hands. Gesturing with his/her arms, he/she called down lighting from the sky in a devastating psionic storm. The Thres'nalop ranks in his/her area hesitated, their numbers horribly reduced by the psionic lighting. Reaching out further, he/she launched a mind control attack, and the Thres'nalop turning on their confused comrades.

As he/she watched, a section of the Protoss line broke, and the Thres'nalop forces raced past the occupied photon cannons to chip at the stone temple with their spark rifles. Protoss Dragoons raced back and shot the two-dozen attacking noblades.

A blast of energy fell near the Executor from the direction of the sky. He/she peered into the sky, and noticed the flight of talons that were harassing the ground forces. The flights of superior scouts were too busy with the Thres'nalop Rapiers to destroy the talons, so he/she called out to a team of Dragoons. With them, he/she began launched powerful blasts into the sky. The groups of talons were quickly swatted from the air.

Except one. As Traenid/Esralath watched in horror, it began to dive towards the temple...

* * *

Straas looked over his shoulder as a bright explosion lit the area. His eyes widened in shock when he saw that a wall of the temple encasing the anomaly was _gone_. In amazement, the rest of the stone structure crumbled, and a blindingly white sphere of _something_ became visible. There came a flash, and he felt an invisible wall of energy strike him off his feet. The rear ranks of Protoss crumpled to the ground, hit by the shockwave. The Thres'nalop behind the front ranks, screeching in triumph, sprinted past the unconscious Protoss and leaped into the ball.

"No!" He cried. _The Thres'nalop were hopping into Waj Norhal_! He heard Traenid/Esralath cry out.

"We must engage them in Terran space! Hurry! Into the warp gate!"


	16. Chapter 15: The Battle of Waj Norhal

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 15: The Battle Of Waj Norhal**

* * *

The Zerg swarms on Waj Norhal had been exterminated. That had been two months ago already, and Dominion commodore Seamus Farrell, the ranking officer of the Waj Norhal military, was beginning to feel bored. After Rear Admiral Simashi Tolaiski had been killed in the final moments of the fighting, he had gained command. Officially, he was an admiral, but he still liked to be identified with the rank "commodore".

He sat aboard his sensor studded command chair, aboard the old _Leviathan_-class battlecruiser _Crimson Dawn_. The new Terran Dominion was issuing hand-me-downs to the backwater worlds, all the new _Behemoth_-class battleships and A-17 Wraiths going to the navy surrounding Korhal. Second-rate equipment was something he was going to have to get used to. Still, the _Crimson_ _Dawn_ was not a bad ship.

After the last Zerg Hive had been razed, he had sent troops to assist in the rebuilding efforts. All one month ago. Seeing nothing interesting on the sensors screens, he sighed and got up from his command chair, intending to retire in his chambers.

"_Commodore_! I have something coming from the ground!" a technician in light power armor practically screamed out.

Farrell stared at the tech. "What is it?"

"I don't know. It seems... unidentifiable. Nothing that we have ever logged. Protoss _or_ Zerg. Wait! Just in: unidentified aliens have been encountered... Aliens are hostile!"

Farrell felt the adrenaline into his forty-eight year old body. Already, the "fog of war" was setting in. Previously silent units began to clamor for support. Three different accounts of a razed barracks were streaming in. One unit said that they were the only force guarding a sector. One garrison force claimed that a nuclear explosive had destroyed the capital city.

For now, he ignored them. His technicians could filter the useless blather, and give him the noteworthy information. He immediately leaped into action and snapped out commands.

"Put all space assets into red alert. Begin deploying our surface forces. Send the battlecruisers _Phoenix _and _Gargoyle_, and the destroyers _Fallen Angel_, _Resartus_, and _Champion_ to the surface for ground support."

The _Samurai_-class destroyers were something that the Waj Norhal scientists had cooked up. The light capital ships looked like miniature battlecruisers, but with an extra wing strut that gave them tremendous speed. Batteries of TurboFalcon missiles gave the destroyer superior ship-to-ship firepower, though its ground-firing Apollo laser batteries were lacking in strength.

Farrell had wondered whether to send the blueprints and schematics to Korhal, but he decided against it. He never really liked Mengsk anyway, and this was his little revenge for being stuck on this backwater planet in the first place. If Mengsk ever found out, he could be found guilty of treason. _Ah_, _so what_?

He took a deep breath and settled back into his command chair. _Bring it on, ya alien freaks_.

* * *

Traenid/Esralth jerked in surprise, when a great ball of energy suddenly appeared only a few hundred meters from the _Phantasm_'s side. He/she had teleported back onto his/her flagship.

A Khalai technician turned to him/her. "This new anomaly appears to be congruous to the one on the surface. Will we enter it, Executor?"

"Yes. Withdraw our interceptors, and order all carriers left in the fleet to enter the gate."

"Commencing course change," shouted Deneras from the helm.

"Ten seconds. Brace!" yelled out a Khalai.

Like the first time, the world seemed to turn upside down, but the change was less wrenching than the first. They found themselves orbiting the Terran world of Waj Norhal.

"How many ships accounted for?" He/she asked a technician manning the sensors.

"We have sixteen capital ships on my sensors, Executor. The carrier _Star Reaver _and the Arbiter _Archoleth_ have been destroyed.

"Damn," muttered Traenid/Esralath. "Order all ships to establish orbit. All available single ships and interceptors are to form a fighter screen. How long until planet crushers are able to be fired again?"

"Two and a half hours, Executor!" rang out another tech.

"We have to hold them until then. Launch interceptors. Arbiters will remain behind the carriers to provide close-in support fire. May Adun smile on us this day..."

* * *

_Ah_! _So good to be back at Waj Norhal_, thought Szcraa. She barely got the thought out before a darkblade took a many-armed swipe at her. She easily dodged it, and slammed it to the ground with a kick. As the thing struggled to regain its footing, she stabbed down and impaled it. As soon as her scythes were unstuck from the corpse, a group of four stoneblades leaped onto her back. Or tried to. The quartet of Thres'nalop landed on where she _had _been. Before they had oriented themselves, they were blown out of existence by a torrent of Magna Needles.

She had been among the first of the Gray Shadow Fleet to enter the warp ball. When she had gotten to "the other side", the Thres'nalop had greeted her. Szcraa remembered fighting some time ago on this world, against the Zerg swarms which seemed to come and go as inexorably as the tide. The Thres'nalop were much worse. Not only did they have superior firepower, but they also had intelligence.

As she battled towards the main city, she left a wake of dismembered and flaming carcasses behind her. Suddenly, her sensors screamed out of an impending airstrike. She looked quickly overhead, and saw flight of Wraiths beginning strafing runs. The quick craft fired their burst lasers, then wheeled overhead to begin another run. Ground fire managed to down six of the fifteen Wraiths. The Terran ships began another series of fire, this time with their Gemini missiles, which were normally used for atmospheric dogfights. Another track of Thres'nalop died, but four more fighters were shot down. The five remaining pilots turned tail and headed back south, to the city.

Szcraa made a silent salute to the dead fighter pilots. The brave Terran warriors had not even made a dent in the Thres'nalop ranks, though the creatures were wildly wheeling around, surprised by the new foes.

Skirting the majority of the Thres'nalop forces, she came up to the city. She noticed some strangely shaped mounds of earth dotting the entrance to the city. Frowning to herself, she stopped and engaged full magnification with her sensors. Then she noticed that each mound had slits running along the sides. She smiled.

The Thres'nalop, who had just reached the city gates, dashed past the mounds, not suspecting anything. Suddenly, with a flash of fire and smoke, the Thres'nalop leading the swarm dropped down dead, riddled with bullet holes and crisped by flame. As the Thres'nalop looked around, confused, the bunkers began to engage the alien trespassers. Gauss rifle barrels could be seen firing, and Perdition flamethrowers were getting anything that got too close. Szcraa silently cheered on the Terrans as she raced towards them.

Suddenly, one of the bunkers exploded, its neosteel and concrete armor overwhelmed by the frightening power of a sickle's nuclear cannon. The bunker's occupants, thrown backward and stunned, barely had the time to fire a few shots before the Thres'nalop were on them. With a growl, Szcraa leapt into the massacre, and avenged the fallen Terran marines and firebats. As shot volley after volley at the attackers, she detected a comm link being transmitted to her. Her sensors told her that the battlecruiser _Gargoyle_ was hailing her. She hunkered down behind some debris to receive the message.

"Unit S-214, respond. This is the Captain Dumas of the battlecruiser _Gargoyle_. Please respond."

She activated her own long-range communications equipment. "Battlecruiser _Gargoyle_, this is Szc—Unit S-214. Standing by."

"Unit S-214, be advised. A maintenance team has been sent down to you. Rendezvous at point Zeta. Unit—"

"Be advised, Captain Dumas. I will _not_ accept. I escaped your enslavement, and I will not be subjected to it again. I also speak for Unit S-213," she snapped. She was not surprised. They _still_ wanted her and Straas.

"Unit S-214, Override code Theta-Charlie-Iota. You _will_ rally to point Zeta."

Szcraa chuckled dryly. The override codes had _long_ since ceased to mean anything to her. "Captain Dumas, in case you are not aware of it, I am part of the Protoss Gray Shadow Fleet. Therefore, I do not have to do a thing you say. Shut up. Ceasing communication link."

She laughed when she heard a brief splutter of indignation over the communications link. She was just beginning to power down the communications equipment when another transmission was established. Her sensors identified the signal to be coming from the admiral's station aboard the _Leviathan_-class battlecruiser _Crimson Dawn_. She argued to herself to whether take it or not. She finally decided to acknowledge the hail.

"Battlecruiser _Crimson Dawn_, this is Unit S-214. Standing by."

"Unit S-214, this is Commodore Seamus Farrell, commanding officer of the Waj Norhal Defense Force. I took the liberty of monitoring Captain Dumas' communication, and frankly, I do _not _care if you rejoin us or not.

"What I would request of you is that you act as a liaison to the Protoss forces. Right now, I am disregarding Mengsk's standing orders to attack any and all alien forces, as I am occupied with these new invaders. I would like you to please act as a communication vector, so that I may speak to the... er, _Executor_ of this 'Gray Shadow Fleet.'"

She thought on that for a while. "Make it fast. I will stay in place long enough for a ten-minute period. But no longer. Your troops are hard pressed holding these Thres'nalop back, and I have to help. I will open up a comm link to the Protoss flagship in one minute. Talk fast, sir."

* * *

"Protoss commander, do you read me?" asked Farrell over the communications link.

"We read you loud and clear, Commodore Farrell."

Farrell noticed that the voice had a strange quality to it, like it was reverberating and echoing at the same time. The voice itself seemed to be two people talking in perfect unison. He was pretty sure one of the voices had a feminine quality to it. He, er, he/she had transmitted all known information on these "Thres'nalop". Very professional.

"What is the current strength of the Thres'nalop fleet, Executor?"

"We count at least two-hundred and two ships left over from our previous engagements." Farrell's blood ran cold.

"WHAT? Who can we hope to stand up to that? You have a fleet of sixteen capital ships. We have only fourteen battlecruisers and twenty destroyers! How do you propose—"

"I have a plan, Commodore. In two and a half hours, we will unleash our planet-crushing weapons on the Thres'nalop fleet. Our carriers have to protected until then."

"We'll do our best. Our allotted ten minutes is almost up. I'm seven minutes from reaching a position that will allow me to open a direct communication link with you."

"Good luck, Terran." Then the commlink ceased. He sighed, feeling trepidation trickle into his stomach. Then he ordered a fleet wide communication opened to all ships in orbit.

"All ships, we will have to help protect some Protoss carriers for 2.5-plus hours. I don't care how much you don't like the mouthless scalies, but I want Valkyrie frigates, fighters, and assault dropships to form a picket line in between the anomaly and the Protoss ships. All battlecruisers and destroyers will intersperse themselves between the Protoss capital ships. Execute. And give'em hell."

* * *

Traenid/Esralath studied the readouts. The Terran fighters and light ships had formed a picket line in front of his/her carriers and Arbiters. He/she had ordered the scouts, Corsairs, assault shuttles, Seraph interceptors, and Strikers to join the Terran light force. Just that moment, the Thres'nalop fleet came through the warp ball.

"125 more minutes, Executor," called out a Khalai. "We also have established direct contact with the Terran flagship. I have opened up a communication link to the battlecruiser _Crimson Dawn_.

Traenid/Esralath saw the brown haired, green-eyed face of the Terran commander on his screen. He began to speak. "Commodore Farrell, do you have a place for your civilians to relocate to?"

The commodore's face hardened. "No, we don't. Our city has been hit hard. The garrison and security forces there repulsed the scouting parties, but the troopers are now dealing with the main assault force, and I'm not sure we can hold them long enough for my marine corps to evac the civilians."

"My ground forces are arriving through the warp sphere." As he/she was talking, he/she had brought up a map of the area surrounding the city. Suddenly he/she had an idea.

"Commodore, is there any value to this... 'Bone Plain'?"

"Um, no. We tried to expand our farming grounds, but the land was simply too dry to be worth the hassle. Why?"

Traenid/Esralath grinned. "What types of..." he/she tried to remember the word for what he/she wanted. "...artery? Artrey? do you have?"

"Artillery? We have eighty 155mm mobile cannons, and about two hundred older-version Arclite siege tanks with artillery capability."

_"This might work Esralath. We do have about one hundred Reavers and about seventy-five High Templars."_

_" I hope so. Otherwise a lot of humans are going to die."_

"Commodore, I have a plan... But we are going to need to gather some more information. We need to know what the Thres'nalop _really_ want here."

* * *

Straas had finally gotten to Waj Norhal again, with the Protoss assault forces at his back. As he made his way towards the Terran city, he ripped through the Thres'nalop forces, his cobalt-white flaming scythes cutting a wide swath through the Thres'nalop ranks. As he reached the city gates, he spied a group of Terran marines pinned down behind some rubble by two-dozen noblades. The armored marines were hunkering down behind the wall, rising to fire occasionally. The Thres'nalop were beginning to advance towards where the marines crouched. In moments the insectoids could clamber over the cover and massacre the Terrans. Straas picked up speed until he was nearly on top of the Thres'nalop. Then he leaped.

The noblades didn't even see what hit them. One moment they were hostile enemy forces, the next minute they were a puréed mix of alien body parts. As he swept past the bloody ground, he slowed down and waved to the marines. Two of the marines waved back, though the rest of them were too busy checking their gauss rifles and beating it out of there. The marines had their black visors down, protecting their faces from dust and flying debris... as well as the stench of battle.

He finally came to city gates, where a complex grid of camouflaged bunkers had repulsed a wave of attacks. The missile turrets, normally used against air attackers, had been field-converted so that they could fire at the ground. Twenty Goliath walkers crouched low behind the bunkers, although they stood high enough to allow their autocannons to clear the defensive structures. To add to the impressive array of firepower fifteen old-model tanks were seen, hull down, next to the front line bunkers. Flashes again were seen coming from the bunker firing slots as the Thres'nalop again made another rush towards the gate. A split second later the Goliaths, tanks and missile turrets added their firepower to the mix. The twenty charging stonebades were annihilated in the ensuing conflagration.

Seeing that the Thres'nalop would not be passing the gate anytime soon, he headed towards the next gate. It was a small entrance to the city, only big enough to allow small vehicles and pedestrians to enter the city. As a result of this, the defense surrounding the gate was light, compared to the main gates. _But if the Thres'nalop get through here, they can flank the other gate defenders_, Straas thought.

He didn't like what he saw. The human defense there consisted of only three bunkers, five Goliaths, and two Vulture hover cycles. A piteously damaged Arclite tank hunkered down next to the bunkers, not able to move on fused tracks. Wreckage of destroyed Terran and Thres'nalop machines was strewn everywhere. A total of seven bunkers had been cracked open by various Thres'nalop weapons, and the eviscerated bodies of Terran marines and firebats were seen scattered over the gate defense area.

As he approached, he flinched as a burst of rifle slugs ricocheted off his carapace. He quickly ducked out of sight behind some rubble, to allow the extremely nervous Terrans to think about what they had shot at. He shifted his arm, and felt a shock of pain reach his neurons. He looked down at his right arm. A small burn on his forearm showed where a Thres'nalop nuclear cannon shot had singed his arm. The burn was healing as he stared at it. While only a superficial burn, the sharp pain it sent out was annoying. He focused his mind back to the matter at hand.

He slowly came back into the Terran's view. He had lowered down his plasma cannons and retracted his scythes. He had also extinguished himself, so as not to appear like a surreal flaming demon.

The Terran defensive weapons remained silent this time, though he noted that the Goliaths' autocannons were tracking him. He made sure he did not make any sudden moves. At fifty meters from the forward bunker, he stopped as an armored figure cautiously exited the pillbox. The marine walked up to him, and punched a button that opened up the armor's black visor. Straas noted that the marine was a female.

The young, green-eyed women looked up at Straas. "I'm Lieutenant Tendra McCuester. You must be the... cyborg... that escaped from her a couple weeks ago, no?" Her rifle was pointed to the side, not in a threatening manner, but one of caution.

Straas called up the personnel file on McCuester, Tendra. Identification number 85-5869-MRNCRP-TNDAMCSTR-108. Joined the marines at age twenty-one, on own free will. No need for neural "resoc", or resocialization. Now age twenty-three. Scottish by descent, if using the old Earth denominations. Height: 163 centimeters tall. Weight: 55 kilograms. Blond hair. Green eyes. Blood type A.

Straas took a deep breath "Yes. I'm Straas, also known as Unit S-213. You people look like you could use a hand."

The Terran woman looked back at the battered gate defense.

"We could. We need to hold out for twenty minutes so reinforcements can reach us." A pause. "Uh, other than that, we could hold out till then, but..."

"Twenty minutes isn't too long. I'll assist in the defense."

"Thanks." She paused. "Sir."

Straas nodded. He jerked as his long-range sensors detected an extremely large Thres'nalop signature. Some of the signatures were moving very fast, showing that a good chunk of the assault force were aircraft and fast moving daggers.

"Get back to the bunkers! We're about to have company!" Straas cried.

McCuester dashed back to the bunker and practically dived in. The bores of gauss rifles poked out from the firing slots, and the Goliaths and Vultures swiveled to face the direction from where the Thres'nalop were advancing from. Any second now, the Thres'nalop aerial forces would be in view. Straas activated his neural targeting system.

Thres'nalop talons came into sight. The needle-thin fighters made a futile dive at the gate, but were knocked away by his plasma cannons, still a kilometer away. _Hah_._ Szcraa would be impressed with that show of sharp shooting_, he said to himself.

Then a handful of daggers came zooming in, their heavy spark rifles burning some armor from the bunkers. Autocannon shells from the Goliaths took out one Thres'nalop strike vehicles, and the fragmentation grenades from the Vultures reduced another to scrap. The massed gauss rifle fire from the bunkers claimed two daggers.

Straas completed the slaughter by destroying the remaining seven daggers with a cascade of Needles. He snarled at the wreckage and noted that the rest of the Thres'nalop attack group was only half a kilometer away. He Ignited, and stole a look at the bunkers. The forward bunker with Lieutenant McCuester had some armor plates knocked off, but nothing serious. He got ready for the next wave.

* * *

"Picket line has reported contact with Thres'nalop space elements, Commodore!" A tech called out from her station. All heads on the bridge shot up and looked at Farrell for a split-second, before their training brought them back to the attention of their monitors.

"Strength?" he inquired of the technician in charge of the long-range sensors.

"I have two hundred-plus capital ships on scanners. And God knows how many fighters."

As the tech spoke out, Farrell heard a steady hum coming from the left side of the room, where the fighter coordinators were spitting out orders and information rapidly.

"What's the status of the fighters, Protoss and human?"

"The engagement was reported twelve minutes ago. We have lost twelve Wraiths, four Valkyries, and seven assault dropships. Protoss losses: seven scout fighters and ten Corsairs. And a bunch of modified shuttles and robotic _thingies_."

"Remaining forces?" asked Farrell, dreading the answer

"Um... Working." A long pause. "Five-sixteen Wraiths, eighty-two frigates, sixty dropships, One-oh-one scouts, eighty-eight Corsairs, fifty shuttles, and three hundred robot-things. Thres'nalop ships: three thousand 'talons', thirteen hundred 'Rapiers', nine-fifty 'scabbards', eighty-four 'Scimitars', and one-twenty 'Katanas'."

"At the rate we're losing ships, we have about an hour before the Thres'nlop break through... And that's considering we allow the fighters to take ninety-nine percent casualties," the technician added.

"This definitely isn't good. How much longer until Protoss weapons are recharged?"

"Status of weapons... The Protoss 'planet crushers' will be able to be fired in two hours, two minutes."

"Dammit, there has to be a way to buy some time. If the Thres'nalop take out the carriers, then the entire fleet can make planet fall and kill everyone on the surface."

Farrell thought hard, and then came up with a strategy.

"I want the battlecruisers_ Iroquois_, _Medusa's Stare_, _Azure Thunder_,_ Dominion Star_, _Pyrethrum_,_ Samuel Kolinski_, _Lyndon Johnson_,and _Heart of Korhal_, as well as the _Crimson Dawn_, to engage the Thres'nalop fleet with the fighters. In the vanguard will be the destroyers _Tashiba Meru_, _Headhunter_, _Damien Moore_, _Terran Fist_, _Eric Daniels_, _Cataphract_, _Grenshaw_, _Jade_ _Lighting_, _Xing_ _Lan_,_ Andrew Jackson_, _Starmaster_ and _Kaiser_."

That left only three battlecruisers, since _Gargoyle _and _Phoenix_ were assisting on the surface, along with six destroyers to assist the carriers. That left the forces guarding the carriers undermanned, but he needed to assist the fighters in a hope to extend their time a little longer.

"Execute. Give me an ETA."

"ETA: ten minutes until maximum firing range of main batteries."

Commodore Farrell hoped that the strategy would work.

"God help us all. We're gonna need it..."

* * *

Szcraa snarled in pain as a spark projectile burned her arm. The fighting had intensified when a large contingent of Protoss troops had joined her on Waj Norhal's soil. She had Ignited, and was causing unbelievable chaos in the middle of the Thres'nalop ranks. Still, the Thres'nalop were not stupid and undertrained; already several burn marks showed on her glowing carapace, along with a large gash on her left arm from a Bloodscythe's claw. Her left plasma cannon had been badly damaged after a group of sickles had managed to strike her with their nuclear cannons, but she had managed to dispatch them. The damaged weapon was slowly repairing itself, though it would take a good fifteen minutes until the cannon came fully online again. She was compensating by using her right plasma cannon quite liberally.

She had accounted for at least four hundred Thres'nalop dead in the last thirty minutes, not counting the myriad vehicles. The wreckage reminded her of how long she had been fighting. Even in her Ignited state, she knew she was weakening. Slowly she began to battle her way towards Protoss lines. In two minutes, she made contact with Protoss forces and was fighting alongside them.

Suddenly, several dozen Thres'nalop in the back ranks were hurled in every direction by an explosion. Using her sensors, she determined from spectrographic analysis of the residue that the explosion had come from a 120mm shell from an Arclite shock cannon. As the bewildered Thres'nalop looked wildly around for what had dared to strike at them, another shell fell among them, scattering a few dozen like leaves under a blower. Szcraa saw that the shells were helping, but not enough. They were falling far too deep in the Thres'nalop lines to be of much help to the embattled Protoss. She had to make a "call for fire" to the siege tanks, to give them coordinates to launch fire at. She opened her comm link, but frowned when she tuned into a Terran command channel. It appeared two Terran outposts were communicating to each other. She decided to listen.

"Geez! Alpha Base! I got something on the computer here!" Came a high voice.

"Repeat Bravo Base. What do you have?" replied a gruff baritone.

"I dunno, Alpha. It looks like something just tried to infiltrate the datafiles in the command center."

"Bravo base, please clarify."

"Er. Some type of crude electronic infiltration just occurred, but the viral scavengers beat them off pretty easily. I think the infiltration was directed towards the star maps. I have no idea what these bugs could have use for 'em."

"Understood. Now cut the chatter. This is a command channel!"

Szcraa cut the connection, and frowned. Why would the Thres'nalop want to get maps of Terran worlds? Then it dawned on her. The Thres'nalop did not want first to exterminate the Protoss, they wanted to gain strength from gaining weak Terran worlds... and Ulreathan could absorb more life force from innocent peoples. She immediately opened up a communications link to the _Phantasm_.

"Give me the Executor! I have just uncovered something!"

"Who is this?" came the inquiry.

"Cyberlisk Szcraa."

"Understood. Opening link now"

Szcra waited for a few seconds, crouched behind some boulders. She winced as the off-target shells slammed far too distant from the front lines.

"Szcraa. What do you have?" came Executor Traenid/Esralath

"I tapped into a Terran communications. Apparently, the Thres'nalop want first to take Terran worlds, then to move on to Protoss worlds."

"They want Terran worlds?"

"Yes. Terran reported that a crude form of electronic infiltration tried to get into the maps of star systems. And the—"

Szcraa was going to add to that the Thres'nalop were beginning to move on to the cities, but she was cut off by Traenid/Esralath.

"Szcraa! That is it!" Then the communication ceased.

Szcraa had never heard the Gray Archon so excited before. Shaking her head, she opened up a link with the Terran artillery unit, sifting through the channels to get the correct frequency. She activated some datafiles, just in case she needed to use them. She looked up the call sign for the Terran artillery in the immediate sector. She still knew Terran radio discipline. Luckily.

"To... Anvil-Julie-Niner... I have a request for fire! Over."

"This Anvil. Identify yourself. Over."

Szcraa cursed. Her datafiles did not have the full up-to-date call signs.

"Anvil, that really does not matter. Thres'nalop troops are converging on the city, and your shells are falling too far behind Thres'nalop front lines to help the Protoss. I need fire at grid—" She accessed her files, and found the answer in one millisecond "—393 by 645, at vector 98 north. Repeat: grid 393 by 645, at vector 98 north. Please confirm. Over."

There was a pause at the other end, as Anvil chewed over the information. She hoped for this world's sake that he would agree.

The radio crackled.

"Roger Wilco, Unidentified. We will commence bombardment with Variable-Time Impact rounds and Advanced Infantry Cluster Munitions at grid 393 by 645, at vector 98 north. Splash in forty seconds. Take a picture for me, willya? Anvil-Julie-Niner over and out."

Szcraa smiled and entered battle again, as fire began to fall from the sky.

* * *

Traenid/Esralath was hurriedly speaking with the Terran commodore, laying out his plan.

"Are you certain this will work?" asked Farrell incredulously.

"If star maps are what the Thres'nalop really want, then I believe so."

"Fine," said the Terran officer in resignation. "I don't see any other alternative, anyway. My units will be in position in thirty minutes."

"Our units better hold them, or all will be lost."

"Yeah, yeah. Anyways, my main regiment of troops just reached the flank of your Protoss warriors. They're gonna try to take out the ones at the warp anomaly, then go hit the back ranks of the alien bastards."

"Good luck," said Traenid/Esralath.

"You too."

* * *

Szcraa was slammed backward by a nuclear cannon's power. As she got back up, she noticed that her shoulder was badly burned, while her right leg seemed to have lost quite a bit of the sensors on the thigh. She swore at the sickle that had managed to strike her. Leaping from the ground, she avoided another nuclear cannon attack, and jumped onto the machine. With a swift kick, she shattered the cockpit and slashed the Thres'nalop pilot within it. Figuratively decapitated, the six-legged sickle staggered about before finally slumping to the ground. Ducking under a stoneblades' slash, she whirled around, and planted a clawed foot into its head with a spinning kick. The Thres'nalop warrior dropped.

A zealot was hurled through the air, and impacted the wreckage of a Bloodscythe. A good chunk of armor seemed to be missing from his chest, though there seemed to be no bleeding. Looking slightly dazed, the warrior got back to his feet and again charged the Thres'nalop. To Szcraa's right, a Dragoon lost its front right leg to a spark blast. Immobilized, the cyborg sprawled in place. Despite of the crippling damage, the cybernetic body of the fallen Protoss warrior continued to launch phase disrupter spheres at a furious pace.

Szcraa stole a quick glance around her, and saw that the dwindling number of Protoss were giving a good account of themselves, making the Thres'nalop pay dearly for every dead Protoss. Suddenly, a flurry of explosions sounded off to her far left. Not able to identify the sound, she peered to her left. She got a glance at the thruster end of a trio of Vulture hover cycles as the Terran vehicles peeled away from their strafing runs. As the smoke from the Vulture grenades cleared, she heard the whine of full-auto gauss rifle fire. Szcraa nearly collapsed from relief. An immense column of Terran forces had reached the flank of the Thres'nalop forces. With a cry echoed by the Protoss, the human and Protoss forces dived into the suddenly outnumbered and surrounded Thres'nalop.

Firebats armed with short-range flamethrowers joined the zealots in the melee, while marines crouched down next to the four-legged Dragoons, using Protoss' heavier armor and shields to give a degree of protection to them. Scarabs and Arclite artillery shells began to explode on top of the Thres'nalop lines, while heavily armored Goliath combat walkers fought side by side with Protoss Archons.

Szcraa dove back into fray, and began thrashing any Thres'nalop in her way.

A quartet of steelblades attempted to leap into her face, but with a flash of flaming psi-scythes, they were smoothly divided into four pieces each. A darkblade took a shot at her with its gluon cannon, and ate three Magna Needles for its troubles. More Thres'nalop converged on her, and she dealt with them.

The armored forms of the marines began to slowly advance, lacerating anything within range of their Impaler gauss rifles. Overhead, a flight of newly arrived Wraiths batted down the Thres'nalop talons, then turned their lasers on the ground forces. Within fifteen minutes, the Thres'nalop force surrounding the warp sphere was annihilated. Every last Thres'nalop fought until death, making the Terran and Protoss pay heavily.

When the smoke and dust had cleared, Szcraa looked in dismay over the battlefield. Every last Thres'nalop had been destroyed, but the Terran Marines and the Protoss assault forces had taken heavy casualties. The Protoss forces were down to a bare thirty-five percent efficiency, while the Terrans had taken twenty-percent casualties. Black, red and blue blood stained the ravaged ground. So many bodies were laid out that there were plenty of places where she could have walked without actually touching the ground.

A tone in her head signaled a communications link had been established with her. She opened up the link.

"Unit S-214?" came a deep male voice.

"Yes?"

"I'm Major Franz Hendrickson. Your Protoss commander and Commodore Seamus Farrell have come up with a plan to lure the Thres'nalop away from the city and eliminate them," rumbled the voice on the other end.

"Tell me about it, Major."

The Terran officer explained the proposed plan with her. It seemed preposterous, even to her. And she was willing to try just about anything.

"That's impossible!" she whispered. "We could never lure them away with _that_."

"I feel the same way. But it's the only thing that can keep the city from being overrun by superior forces. And it might just work, and give us the upper hand against the bugs."

Szcraa sighed. "We have no other choice, it seems. I hope this works."

"Me too," muttered Hendrickson. "Plans have already been laid out and set in motion. The Command Center will be in position in hour. We got to get the troops moving."

As the Terran and Protoss warriors began to move to the staging area, she felt a feeling of trepidation. Something was not going to go as planned...

* * *

The last twenty minutes had brought a prodigious number of Thres'nalop literally into Straas' face. The bodies of noblades, steelblades, and several darkblades were scattered over the city gate area, in various conditions of mutilation. Smoking wreckages of sickles and Bloodsycthes burned ominously, sending dark oily smoke into the sky.

However, the defense of the city gate was steep. The horribly damaged Arclite siege tank had been destroyed, along with both of the light Vulture cycles. One Goliath had been destroyed, and the four other combat walkers were damaged.

However, it could have been worse. The occupants of tank had managed to pick their way out of the wreckage of their ruined vehicle. The four damaged Goliaths were still at operating levels. The bunker that had sheltered Lieutenant McCuester had been blasted down to rubble, but miraculously, the bunker's occupants came out alive, though one firebat had to be dragged out, unconscious.

Straas had detected the Terran relief force from twenty miles out, using his mid-range sensors. The force had been steadily chugging along, and was now close, no more than two miles out. The lead elements, presumably Vultures, would be in sight within ten minutes. Straas turned around when he heard some crunching on the ground. Lieutenant Tendra McCuester stomped up to him, her gauss rifle held idly in her right gauntlet.

"Thanks for the help... Straas, right?"

"Yes. It's my duty to protect those with no protection..." he murmured, gesturing towards the city and its defenseless inhabitants. Then he canted his head to the left. He was acting like some mystical poet-warrior lately. He shrugged.

"I detect no Thres'nalop forces within one-hundred fifty miles. The vanguard will be here in seven minutes. I have to assist in other parts of the city."

"Again, thank you Straas. You saved the lives of my men there." She paused, then snapped a smart salute. Normally, that was strictly against military doctrine, since a salute pointed out a commanding officer to enemy snipers, but the Thres'nalop knew nothing of salutes or other Terran customs. And it would have to be one hell of a sniper rifle to even dent him.

"You're welcome. Take care."

With that, he spun on his heel and sprinted off to the next gate, in search of new allies and more enemies.

* * *

The powerful burst from Farrell's battlecruiser's Yamato cannons had given the Thres'nalop something to worry about. The volley of nine Yamato bursts had cleared a convenient path through the Thres'nalop squadrons. One Scimitar took the full fury of three Yamato shots, and was disintegrated.

He pulled down his visor on his command suit and sealed it. It was an old habit of his, earning him puzzled looks of some of his subordinates. The actual chance of being subjected to vacuum was very slim, but old habits take a long time to die.

Farrell noted his tactical display. The _Crimson Dawn_'s cameras showed the destroyer _Damien_ _Moore_ opening up on the fighters with TurboFalcon missile batteries. Laser batteries were striking out at the fighters, but they were not needed. The flight of a half-dozen Rapiers were reduced to slag by the volleys of missiles. Minutes later, the other destroyers caught up with the _Moore_ and added their firepower.

"ETA of laser battery range?" He called out.

"T-minus 45 seconds!" Rang back a tech.

There was a moment of tenseness as the distance was closed. Then the console he was looking at blinked out a new message. _Targets within range_. "OPEN FIRE!" roared Farrell.

The gunners of the battlecruiser began laying down blistering fire, breaking up disorganized Thres'nalop squadrons. Obviously, the Thres'nalop had not been prepared for the Terran move.

"Commodore!" rang out a tech from the Weapons station. "Our Yamato Cannon is recharged, as is the _Dominion Star_'s!"

"Acknowledged," replied Farrell. "Target the Scimitar at vector 43 at coordinates 70-90-12. Tell the _Star_ to fire at the Katana it's escorting, at vector 60 at coordinates 63-102-14"

"Order sent. I think I heard Captain Quintile reciting "Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe" before the link was established."

"Cut the chatter," Farrell said firmly, then chuckled under his breath.

"Yes sir." Then, "Yamato Cannon firing!"

He felt the _Dawn _shake as the electromagnet-contained nuclear explosion built in front of the battlecruiser, and then was released in a devastating comet of starfire towards the targeted Scimitar. The Thres'nalop warship's hull held against the onslaught for only a few seconds, then the Yamato shot burned a gaping hole into the side of the Thres'nalop ship. The Scimitar listed off to it left, the vented atmosphere from the hole propelling it. Then it slowly stabilized, and began to jet back towards the battle.

Switching the camera view at his command screen, he noted that the larger Katana that the _Dominion Star_ had fired was less affected by the blast, but was still limping towards the rear Thres'nalop ranks, its flank a scorched mess of glowing metal and burning atmosphere. He saw a squadron of bold Wraith fighters maneuvering in and lashing the Thres'nalop's carrier's damaged flank with laser fire and missiles. The Katana suddenly split apart as its engines exploded. The Wraiths got away safely. Looking at the wreckage, He suddenly had an idea.

"Communications! Order the battlecruiser _Samuel Kolinski_ and the destroyers _Jade Lightning _and_ Tashiba Meru_ to hang back. I want the _Kolinski_ to focus all it power, besides scanners and life support, to recharging the Yamato Cannon. We'll dive in and give the _Kolinski_ some pretty targets."

"Message received," reported the woman at Comm. "Commander Yin says 'Good luck'."

A flash, followed by an explosion sounded off to starboard side.

"Commodore! The destroyer _Andrew Jackson _has been destroyed. Lost with all hands!"

Farrell cursed. One less ship to work with in his plan.

"Acknowledged," he growled. "Order all able ships to form a spearhead. Destroyers surrounding the battlecruisers. Fighters and Valkyries interspersed between the capital ships. Execute."

* * *

"All clear!" transmitted Szcraa to the science facility. The floating science facility began to hover towards the bunker complex that had been specially designed for it. The ponderous research structure began to increase power to its hover pods, accelerating it. Everything on the facility was shut down to shunt all its power to hover pads. As the science facility began to advance, its heavy guard force slowly advanced, keeping the ground ahead covered. Szcraa watched as the Terran building slowly receded into the distance.

As the building receded into the distance, she made her way back to the bunker complex. Using her long range optics in conjunction with the bunker's cameras, she tracked the progress of the dwindling science facility. The forces guarding the facility looked wary, as they had been warned what the facility's significance was. All the two- hundred marines were riding Vulture cycles, their gauss rifles and grenade launchers at the ready. Sixty Goliaths tromped along, their autocannons tracking potential ambush sites. A squad of forty tanks rolled along, their turrets tracking left to right every few minutes.

Szcraa watched with tension. Suddenly, as the facility cleared its ninth mile, it was subjected to a murderous barrage of Thres'nalop fire. A cascade of sparks took out two hover pads, bringing the flying building to a halt. Another volley of spark fire destroyed the last two hover pods, causing the science facility to crash to the ground. Since the building had not been flying high, it as intact when it slammed into the rocky soil. Szcraa drew in a breath and didn't let it out.

A fusillade of nuclear cannon fire ripped half the Goliath force apart. The confused Terrans swiveled their cockpits around, but were too slow. Another ten fell to a concentrated volley of heavy spark fire. The Vultures and tanks had finally returned fire, but it too little, too late. A swarm of powerful Bloodsycthes and darkblades swarmed the terrified and confused Terran forces, who were too shocked to actually land a shot on the onrushing Thres'nalop. As the vanguard of the melee forces swarmed the Terrans, some of the Vultures attempted to break away and flee, but a group of Bloodscythes blocked the way. The sickles, daggers, and other Thres'nalop came out of hiding and charged. A darkblade coming from the flank of the Vultures took a swing with four of its meat-hook arms. At the same time, four Bloodsycthes batted away several more Vultures. The Vultures were reduced to junk. Inexplicably, the darkblades looked confused, if that was the right emotion on their alien faces. They kept looking from their claws to the wreckage, and back again. Szcraa felt her mouth arch into a grin.

As if on cue, all the wreckage, body parts, and remaining Terrans vanished in a cloud of blue smoke. The Protoss hallucinations had worked!

Szcraa didn't waste any time. "Open fire!" she roared, and transmitted the signal to the rigged science facility. The fallen building, which had been drained of all data, exploded into an inferno of C-10 induced fire.

She felt the ground shake once as the 155mm artillery tubes began to fire. The thumps became one large earthquake as the Arclite siege tanks opened up as well. She detected an incoming transmission from one of the artillery commanders.

"Heh heh. Rounds on the way. Make sure your recording this. There's a bet on how many the first flight of shells are gonna kill."

She used her sensors to detect how many artillery munitions were heading towards the Thres'nalop.

Thirty. Seventy. One hundred. Three hundred.

Then four hundred fifty-eight.

"Splash..." she muttered with a grin.

The echoes of the falling artillery shells thundered over the plain.

* * *

_Splash_. 

The powerful curtain barrage of artillery ravaged the ranks of the shocked and confused Thres'nalop.

Szcraa, along with the marines in earshot, cheered. However, the sheer number of Thres'nalop was too much for the artillery to take out. With a scream heard from eight miles away, the Thres'nalop turned and charged en masse towards the entrenched marines. The troopers tensed, and the Goliaths swiveled, bringing their guns to bear. Vulture riders prepped their grenade launchers, and firebats got ready to unleash their flamethrowers.

Suddenly, Szcraa saw a flurry of blue comets impact into the Thres'nalop, exploding into blue fire and wiping out ten dozen Thres'nalop. As the surviving aliens closed in, a web of crackling, violent lightning tore out of voids in the air and ripped the front Thres'nalop rows to tatters. The Protoss High Templars had unleashed series of devastating psionic storms. Still, the scarabs and lighting strikes only brought a moment respite. Soon, the Protoss Reavers were depleted of scarabs and the Protoss High Templars were drained of psionic energy. The Terran artillery had used the time to shift half their firepower closer to Terran lines, to provide a curtain barrage that cleared away the Thres'nalop that were getting too close.

Szcraa almost yelled in triumph. At least a quarter of the Thres'nalop force had been annihilated, and the aliens had nowhere to go.

If this kept up, it would be an absolute slaughter.

Then a miniature sun composed of dark energies wiped out twenty artillery units.

She looked up, and saw the terrifying, mutated Ulreathan floating high above his army. With another gesture, another dozen Arclite tanks were incinerated by Ulreathan's dark blasts. The marines and Protoss defenders on the ground opened fire at the soaring Blademaster. With a contemptuous wave of his arm, twenty Terran and Protoss fighters were deduced to vapor. The flying ordinance heading towards the Thres'nalop commander were deflected or dissipated two meters from his body.

Szcraa gazed bleakly at the hundred destroyed allies, the growled as she Ignited. With his eyes in a mocking, evil smile, Ulreathan turned his face towards her. With a booming laugh audible from the distance, he raised a hand at Szcraa...

* * *

Another thump shook the _Crimson Dawn_. Farrell muttered an oath, then bellowed "Report!"

"Um...," went a tech with a large bloody gash on his cheek, "we just lost batteries Six and Four. Three, Nine, and Seven are damaged pretty badly, but still operable."

"Dammit. How long until the Protoss cannons recharge?"

"Working," then, "it looks like... one hour."

"How many of our capital ships left. And give me a ratio to Thres'nalop ships." He wasn't sure if he would like the answer. But he still wanted it.

"We lost the cruisers _Medusa's Stare_, _Azure Thunder_,_ Dominion Star_,and _Heart of Korhal_, and destroyers _Damien Moore_, _Terran Fist_, _Eric Daniels_, _Cataphract_, _Grenshaw_, _Headhunter_, and _Xing Lan_. We have nine capital ships left, against... one hundred fifty-one Thres'nalop capital ships. Half of our fighters are gone."

Each word sounded like a death knell to Farrells ears. More than _16_-to-one odds, and the Thres'nalop weapons were superior to Terra weapons. If the odds were reversed, the Terrans would have had a chance.

Another thump, far more violent than the last, slammed Farrell from his seat. _Damn! What was that?_ As he got back to his seat, he felt the extra weight of inertia-induced G.

"Damage report!" And to the helm "Helm! What was that?"

"Sir, we just were hit by a direct blast from a heavy, uh, 'nuclear cannon.' " one of the techs at Damage Control bawled out.

Helm called out, "Sir, we were pushed by the blast and atmosphere leak into Thres'nalop lines. We are being propelled at incredible speeds! I'm firing thrusters to stabilize"

Farrell felt the extra, painful G leak away as the thrusters stabilized the _Crimson_ _Dawn_.

"Sir!" yelled out one of the Weapons techs. "Yamato Cannon prepped and ready to fire!"

"Acknowledged. Fire at the Scimitar at coordinates 56—"

His words were cut off by a close explosion. A very close explosion.

* * *

>Straas! Straas! We need you here! Ulreathan—> Szcraa was cut off.

Straas reared up as if hit by a Bloodsycthe. Quickly, he traced back the transmission back to the source. According to his computers, Szcraa was near a place the Waj Norhal Terrans had labeled "Bone Plain". Seeing that the immediate area around the city gate was clear of Thres'nalop, he dashed at full speed toward Szcraa.

He cleared the ten kilometers separating them in five minutes. In his Ignited state, he blazed like a burning blue-white torch as he closed the gap.

When he reached the outskirts of the plain, he gasped. Terrans and Protoss were embattled against Thres'nalop. Burning artillery units were scattered along the valley walls surrounding Bone Plain. Protoss and Terran defenders locked in close-range combat with the Thres'nalop were being blasted apart every second. Even with the artillery and distance, the Protoss and Terrans would have had a difficult battle. One hundred and fifty various artillery units were still firing, but they were being knocked out every second by...

...Ulreathan.

The transformed Judicator was floating in the sky, hurling black fireballs down on the Terran and Protoss lines. Each of the terrifying blasts of dark energy wiped out dozens of defenders, while returning fire impacted harmlessly meters from Ulreathan's body. Szcraa lay motionless only fourteen meters from him. She was breathing, but unconscious.

Straas felt power surge into his body, and he opened fire with his plasma cannons. His plasma fire rippled on Ulreathan's invisible barrier, and he had to dodge to avoid an incoming blast of dark energy.

"You are foolish, abomination!" bellowed Ulreathan madly as he lowered himself to the ground.

"Am I the abomination here?" retorted Straas in an enraged whisper. "You steal life from sentient beings, and you betrayed your entire species. _You_ are the abomination."

Ulreathan answered him with only a cruel smile. With a smooth motion, Ulreathan drew forth his dark swords.

"I will not bother absorbing your tainted life-force, Straas," said the Supreme Blademaster. "It will be much easier to have your head.

"Then I can absorb the helpless energies of your allies and... your _lover_."

With a scream of rage, Straas hurled himself at Ulreathan, psi-scyhes outstretched. Effortlessly, Ulreathan dodged. As he swept pass Ulreathan, the Blademaster brought down his swords. Straas pirouetted and blocked one sword, while eluding the second.

Stars exploded into his vision when Ulreathan kicked him in the side of the head with a metal shod foot. Straas felt himself fly several meters until he slammed into the ground. Shaking his head to clear it, he looked up in time to see Ulreathan diving from the sky, intent on spearing him to the ground. He rolled, and the blades missed by a hair. He continued his roll and sprang back up on his feet. He gingerly felt the side of his head; it was sticky with blood.

"_Shadow flare_!" screamed Ulreathan, and a ball of dark energy impacted onto Straas. He flew again.

He knew he was not powerful enough to ever face Ulreathan down... at least, not Ignited. Feeling a familiar sense of shame, he opened up his mind to the Protoss souls that resided within him.

He got only silence.

_Where are you_?_ This is the time I need you the most_! He roared in his own mind in frustration. The burning needle of a Shadow Strike burned his left shoulder.

Abruptly a voice answered his. "_Straas, there is no need for you to ask anymore_. _Our power is yours_." The voice belonged to Thralen.

"_But I don_'_t want your life force_!_ It your—_" He was cut of by the voice of Xavan.

"_Straas_!_ There is no time for this_! _We _give_ you this power_._ You are _not_ Ulreathan for taking it_._ Defeat him _this_ time_,_ Straas, or no one will be safe ever again_._ Go, Straas_." Then the voice disappeared.

As Straas searched for the ones who could give him the power, Ulreathan delievered anothe devastating kick. As he thumped to the ground again, he still called out to the Protoss souls. _Where are you_! _Please!_

Silence.

Still laughing at Straas, Ulreathan turned his back and began to advance on Szcraa's inert form, blasting Terran and Protoss out of the way. As the transformed Protoss began to bend over Szcraa, hands outstretched, he gave in. Calling the power, he went Nova. _Nova_.

Ulreathan looked back in surprise, and was knocked off his feet by a supercharged plasma blast.

A haunting song seemed to have invaded his mind. A song off... wisdom. The song was in an unknown language, but he _understood_ it.

Along with the impossibly huge power, Straas' mind was flooded with knowledge. The knowledge needed to focus his immense energies into devastating attacks. The knowledge needed to defeat Ulreathan.


	17. Chapter 16: Supernova

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 16: Supernova**

* * *

"_Solar Blast_!" he roared, and a beam of pure white energy arced from his palm. Ulreathan, with a surprised expression on his face, thrust out his palm and blocked the attack. Ulreathan hurled another Shadow Flare at him, but he swept up his right psi-scythe and knocked the shadow energy away. Energy attacks would get them nowhere; they were too evenly matched.

Straas ducked out of the way of a Shadow Strike, and rushed at Ulreathan, distracting him with a crackling lightning strike of a Quantam Bolt. Ulreathan was nearly stabbed, but he dodged and drew out his dark blades. With that, they flew at each other again. Slashing and whirling.

Parry and riposte. Blow and couterblow. Stab and evade.

Straas delievered a powerful kick to Ulreathan's shoulder, and the transformed Judicator stumbled. Before he could follow up the attack, however, he was knocked backwards by a flash from the Blademaster. Skidding, he stopped his backward momentum and faced Ulreathan. He and the Blademaster circled each other for a few moments, then resumed their unwinnable battle.

* * *

Traenid/Esralath monitored the losing space battle with mounting dismay. The entire assault spear sent by Commodore Farrell had managed only to destroy eleven capital ships of the Thres'nalop, but over ninety were converging on his/her position. The battered lance of Terran battlecruisers and destroyers had been pounded into glowing metal and dust. The fighters were dwindling even more rapidly now, without the support of the Terran capital ships. The Thres'nalop would be through the fighter screen in less than fifteen minutes. He still needed thirty, no less. The Strikers, Seraph interceptors, scouts, and Corsairs held in reserve were ready to launch in five minutes.

They had no time.

Suddenly, his/her holographic communicator chimed. He/she activated it and saw a face of a Protoss commander on the surface of the Terran world. In the background, thunderous _booms _punctuated the Ground Force Commander's remarks. The Protoss was standing in front of one of the Terran heavy war machines.

"Executor! We have managed to lure the Thres'nalop into the trap prepared for them." The ground commander said. "The Terran... artillery... is has been firing for several minutes already. However, a massive rush forced our Reavers and High Templars to expend their firepower. Luckily, the Terran Artillery has shifted some of its firepower to cover a closer distance, forming a barrier of protective fire. In a few minutes, the scarabs and Templar energies will be replenished, and we can sweep them from the vicinity.

"If the gods will it, we will win this battle. I hope you fare well, Executor."

Traenid/Esralath bit off a comment. No need to panic the troops on the ground.

"We are doing our best. Adun with you, Ground Force Commander," he/she said.

"Yes, Executor," replied the Protoss Ground Force Commander. "En taro—" The Ground Force Commander was blasted off screen by a dark blast of _something_. Another explosion followed, and another, until the transmission was reduced to static.

He/she jerked up as if the blasts had hit him/her personally. A Ground Force Commander probably dead, and the combat situation had obviously taken a turn for the worst.

_"Only Ulreathan could have done that. I know his powers, Traenid."_

He/she then attempted to open a link with Szcraa, but the link could seem to reach the surface. The subsequent link to Straas likewise failed.

_"Damn, it must be Ulreathan."_

A jerk shook the _Phantasm_. One of the Khalais immediately called out.

"Executor! A high-speed Rapier just slammed into our shields. No armor damage, but our shields are reduced to 98.6 percent. I also detect a group of talons and Rapiers that have broken through our fighter group.

"Executor! Shall I order the pilots to launch?" rang out one of the Templars in charge of coordinating the fighter and interceptor forces.

"Yes. Order them into space."

The _Phantasm_ shook in a different way as its fighters and interceptors screamed out of their launch tubes in a wash of ion trails. The single Terran battlecruiser and three destroyers maneuvered to bring their weapons to bear.

Soon, more and more Thres'nalop fighters were trickling in, and they were being dispatched with less efficiency each time. He/she felt frustrated. All his/her power, and he/she could not do a thing to help in the space battle.

Unless...

He/she reached out with his/her mind, and began to probe the minds of the Thres'nalop pilots. With a sudden burst of power, he/she took control of them.

The captured minds rose in confusion, then horror, then rage. Their minds attempted to wrest back their bodies from his/her grip, but he/she was too strong for them. With grim determination, Traenid/Esralath sent the fighters careening into accompanying Thres'nalop single-ships. The squadron of talons and Rapiers crashed together and formed glowing orange flowers in the vacuum of space.

Another wave of Thres'nalop ships swarmed towards the _Phantasm_.

* * *

It was hopeless. Even with his/her immense energies, there were simply too many Thres'nalop leaking through the failing fighter screen towards the _Phantasm_. The space surrounding his/her flagship was awash with motion. Seraph interceptors and Thres'nalop talons; scouts and Rapiers; Corsairs and scabbards. Terran lasers and missiles mixed with Thres'nalop spark weapons. In minutes the enemy capital ships would break through, and all would have been for nothing.

_"This is how it ends."_

Then a message on the holoprojector announced itself. Frowning, he/she opened it. The image of a helmeted Commodore Farrell appeared in the transmission window. Apparently, the _Crimson Dawn_ was still intact! He/she traced back the signal to its source; the Terran flagship was nestled in the midst of the Thres'nalop fleet.

"Get _all_ your ships out of there. Get far, _far_ away!" Farrell rasped. "You got five minutes. Then the Thres'nalop get a _very_ large surprise." The transmission disconnected.

But Traenid/Esralath was already bellowing at the fighters engaged with the Thres'nalop to flee.

_"I hope whatever the Terran has in mind works."_

_"Me too."

* * *

_

Farrell groaned. He felt too light. Puzzled, he opened his eyes, his hands reaching for the helmet release. He was lucky.

Another few inches, and he would have died. Very quickly and messily.

The bridge of the _Crimson Dawn_ was painted red. Literally.

The officers and techs on the bridge had died a quick, gory death of explosive decompression. A six-meter wide hole gaped off to the right. _If I had opened my suit_... thought Farrell numbly as his hands faltered on the helmet release. His paranoid habit had saved him.

He tried to move; couldn't. He was still strapped to the command seat. The lack of energy had shut down the gravity generators. He had to deal now with the disorienting zero-G.

He unbuckled himself, and drifted carefully to Damage Control's computer. He nearly cried out in horror.

Every single capital ship of his assault force was _gone_. The _Dawn_'s decks were compromised, and he feared that the troops and engineers down below were splashed across the bulkheads like gruesome paint.

Hopelessly he looked around the wrecked bridge. Then a thought came to his mind. Gliding back to command chair, he looked for something, hoping it would still be functional. In a burst of relief, he discovered it was. Gliding down to a Communication's station, he pushed the inside-out corpse of the young woman out of the way, and opened a link with the _Phantasm_. A moment later, the image of Executor Traenid/Esralath appeared on the screen.

"Get _all_ your ships out of there. Get far, _far_ away!" Farrell told the Protoss commander. "You got five minutes. Then the Thres'nalop get a _very_ large surprise." He cut the comm link. Felling sick, he coasted back to his command chair. According to the schematics, the blast radius of a Colossus-class fusion reactor would make an explosion eighty kilometers in diameter. And the nuclear arms aboard the _Crimson Dawn_ would add thirty or forty kilometers to that. He watched the chronometer as the allotted five minutes dripped away. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

He tapped a few keys, and a sent the commands for self-destruct to the computer. There was a whir and a tortured screech tore through the ship. _This is the blaze of glory, eh_. He no longer felt sick.

The _Dawn_ began to shake violently as the atom-ripping forces began to work. Farrell glanced down at the counter through his visor: thirty-five more minutes until the planet-crushers were operational.

He smiled as pure, blinding white filled his vision...

* * *

Szcraa shook her head to clear the lingering darkness. She opened her eyes and tried to remember what had happened._ Ulreathan_... She darted her eyes around. She saw unhindered chaos as Protoss and Terrans and Thres'nalop fought at close range. A zealot stabbed a noblade in the back. A Vulture was hurled through the air as a Bloodscythe swung its arms. Marines and noblades traded fire with each other, ducking to make use of cover. Dark Templars battled with darkblades and steeblades. Flames gushed as firebats hosed any Thres'nalop within range with killing flame. Nuclear fire destroyed handfuls of Protoss and Terrans in flares of blinding white. Sickles were bowled over by Goliath autocannons. Undulating energy from gluon cannons tore apart the atoms of Protoss Dragoons.

Re-Igniting, she hurtled into the desperate battle, doing her best to fight back the Thres'nalop. She might have just been fighting back a volcanic eruption. With a fire hose.

She looked off to her left, and saw a breathtaking sight. Her mate, clothed in pure white flames, was battling with the dark Ulreathan. At his explosion of action, she gasped as Straas seemed to transform into a white blur moving at impossible speeds. Ulreathan responded in kind, and the two fighters danced around each other, looking for a critical opening. She could only make out the two fighters vaguely if they slowed, and she caught only a glimpse for a bare half-second.

She turned back to the battle. A sickle turned towards her, and tried to stomp her. Apparently, it was out of ammunition.

She dashed forward, lowered a shoulder, and rammed into it, the immense machine flying ten meters to crash on a group of stoneblades. Another wild twirl caused a steelbade to miss with a slash from its envenomed spear. Impaling it with her psi-scythes, she threw it over her shoulder and watched it collide with a noblade. The force and mass of the thrown steelblade corpse slew the lesser Thres'nalop warrior.

Fighters scrambled from Terran bases engaged in aerial dogfights with Thres'nalop talons. Light Valkyrie frigates blasted away and were blasted away by Thres'nalop Rapiers. Feeling heat heading towards her, she dodged out of the way, and the spark volley flew past her body. She swiveled, and blew the dagger away with a burst of plasma. As the battle continued, she lost awareness of individual events; they were all just part of the long battle to her. She darted every which way, she fired every weapon she had, she slashed at any hostile in range. Off to the side of her vision, she saw Ulreathan rise into the air.

* * *

Straas grunted as a slash from the dark swords cut a furrow into the carapace of his flank. He ducked Ulreathans next attack, and came up, raking the Blademaster's shoulder which was devoid of armor. The transformed Protoss grunted in pain, and flew back from Straas. Another of Ulreathan's rushes resulted in another slash, this time on his right forearm. He repaid Ulreathan with a clawed kick that caved in some of the Blademaster's armor. they backed away from each other again. Then they flew at each other yet another time, their moves almost too fast for any observer to comprehend. _I have to defeat Ulreathan_. _The Protoss and Terrans need my help_. _I have to win_. If Ulreathan could hold him off long enough, the former Judicator could wait until the Terran and Protoss defenders were gone, then teleport to a safe distance and drink the life force of the humans. With a roar, Ulreathan flew off the ground and rose eighty meters above Straas.

He fired up a Quantum Bolt at Ulreathan, and the Blademaster responded with a dark lance of a Shadow Strike. Solar Flares mixed with Shadow Flares. Quantum Bolts lit the sky, and Shadow Strikes sucked the luminescence away. Beams and lightning bolts of dark and light collided and danced past each other. _Hopeless_. _I can't beat him like this_! Concentrating his energy, he sent out a flurry of well-aimed Solar Flares that connected with Ulreathan. Tumbling through the air, the Blademaster grimaced. Then the moment of pain was gone, replaced with rage.

"Enough of this! Now it is time for you to die, Straas the abomination!" screamed Ulreathan. "Behold..."

Straas was stunned when he saw a black, crackling sphere of anti-light build up in Ulreathan's outstretched palms. The sphere grew larger and larger, until the humongous orb of dark energy was easily four meters in diameter. Hefting the globe in his hands, like mythical Atlas holding up the world, the sphere was held above Ulreathan's head. Straas stared at the dark force; his sensors told him it was exponentially more powerful than Ulreathan's most powerful Shadow Flare. There was no way he could deflect it, no way to dodge it.

"Meet death Straas! _DARKNESS OMEGA_!"

Swinging the sphere down towards him, Straas saw the orb transform into a ten-meter wide beam of pure fiery dark energy.

In the time it took for Ulreathan to unleash his attack, new knowledge had been opened to him. In the space of two milliseconds, he concentrated his energies in ways never before. He felt the power flood his right arm. He grinned as he felt the energy build. As Ulreathan let loose the Darkness Omega, Straas unleashed his most powerful attack: _Supernova_.

* * *

"_SUPERNOVA_!" roared Straas, and a ten-meter wide spear of blinding white energy exploded out of right arm and flew towards Ulreathan's beam of light-consuming energy.

The two beams intersected, and immediately he felt himself slide backwards a dozen meters. He planted his feet, and his backward motion halted. Ulreathan's Darkness Omega and his Supernova had collided, and their point of intersection was a seventy-meter wide orb of crackling, swirling gray. Straas saw light and dark mix randomly in the intersection point.

Ulreathan had a look of disbelief on his face. _He obviously did _not_ expect that_... thought Straas. With a murderous growl, Ulreathan gestured with his arms, appearing to push out, and the power of the dark fire increased. The intersection point crept meter by meter towards Straas. He rallied his own energies, and the sphere of gray slowly advanced to where it had been before. The intersection point constantly quivered back and forth. With another roar of rage, Straas felt Ulreathan lashed out, and the orb of certain annihilation _flew _towards him. With the surface of the globe meter from his face, he pushed out again, and forced the sphere away.

He went farther this time, and he pushed until his pillar of fiery, crackling energy pushed the gray globe a bare meter from Ulreathan's hands. With a grunt, the Blademaster forced back the sphere to its starting place.

His arm were getting tired. Straas grasped his right wrist with his opposite hand, and used it to steady his tiring limb. For a third time, Ulreathan sent another blast of energy towards him. And this time, he was not sure he could hold it back...

* * *

Traenid/Esralath could not believe it. The Thres'nalop fleet had been shattered by the unexpected nuclear fusion detonation. Forty of the Thres'nalop ships were annihilated by atomic blast, and a good thirty more were badly damaged.

_"Farrell gave up his life like any Protoss warrior would."_

_"Let us not waste this..."_

"All ships in the area," he/she called out over a fleet wide communication. "The Terran Commodore Farrell gave his life in a manner worthy of any Protoss. Let us not waste this opportunity!"

He/she felt the psychic roar of the Protoss in the fleet through the communal link of the Khala. A rekindled hope now burned in them. He/she felt the fatigued fighter pilots battle with renewed vigor. Even the remaining Terran pilots seemed to have turned the chaos of the nuclear blast into rekindled energy. He/she glanced at the countdown timer: thirty minutes left.

* * *

Straas strained under the Ulreathan's onslaught. It had been a half-hour ago when this hopeless duel had begun.

He was weakening, and Ulreathan, strengthened by stolen energy, knew that as well. The intersection orb was inching closer and closer. He could not hold it back. He slowly collapsed to one knee, barely keeping his palm pointed towards Ulreathan.

He rallied one last time, and the surface of the orb halted, a mere meter from his palm.

Ulreathan chuckled evilly. "Foolish display Straas. Darkness will _always_ extinguish the light. Your mere _torch_ is _nothing_ compared to my all-consuming shadows! The darkness take you, abomination. It is the last thing you will know!"

The sphere inched closer. And closer. _It ends_... Straas thought, defeated.

Then something changed. He could no longer see. The strange melody returned to his mind.

Then vision returned, but not regular sight. He could only see... white. Then darkness encroached on the blazing background, and filled it out. He could make out movement off to his right. White figures were standing still transfixed with what they were seeing, all forms indistinguishable from the others. He slowly understood. _Those are_..._ everyone who is_,was,_ fighting_. He saw one form stand out from the rest. It had the form of... _Szcraa_. If he lost, Szcraa would be another of Ulreathan's victims. The rest of Waj Norhal would soon follow.

He saw._ The scorched world of Waj Norhal hangs dead in space_. _All life on the surface is extinguished_. _Ulreathan_, _with the power that he needs_, _sets out to conquer the rest of Terran space_. _The Protoss follow_.He saw _the universe populated by the savage Thres'nalop_. _All life in the universe is extinguished_.

The vision left.

_If I am defeated, the universe will fall_. _This is no longer at the stake of a Terran world_. _The whole universe is in my hands_. The realization hit him like a nuclear shot.

His strange vision left him, and normal sight returned. Ulreathan still hung high over him, cackling madly. The surface of the orb was almost touching his palm, inching closer. Straas growled, and he pushed, one last time.

"Darkness flees from the light, Ulreathan. Light conquers darkness," he said through gritted teeth.

"The way to destroy darkness _is to increase the light_!" he roared.

With all his might, and the haunting song echoing in his mind, he unleashed the full force and fury of his Nova powers. His power locked inside him burst out from the dam of his mind.

The advancing shadowy sphere halted its movement towards him, then broke apart. The overwhelming, blinding force of his blazing, fiery Supernova shattered the Darkness Omega of Ulreathan, scattering it into splinters of impotent shadow. In the space of a few milliseconds, Straas saw the blinding light of the Supernova wash over Ulreathan. The Supreme Blademaster's expression changed from contemptuous rage to horror as the light touched his outstretched palms. Then, in a mere half-second, the force of his pillar of light reduced the former Judicator to nothingness. A howl echoed through the air. Ulreathan was no more.

* * *

He wanted to sink down to his knees and give in to unconsciousness, but he had one more thing to do. Directing his palm in a new direction, he sent the powerful column of light and energy into space, right into the midst of the Thres'nalop fleet.

* * *

"_FIRE!_" screamed Executor Traenid/Esralath as the final seconds ticked away.

Eight beams of planet-slagging power streaked towards the Thres'nalop fleet. Seventy ships were destroyed by the powerful weapons, and ten were too damaged to move effectively. However, the beams were not as effective as they had first been. Twenty Thres'nalop warships heaved towards the Protoss fleet, in one final, desperate attack. He/she began to order the ships to disperse and engage, but _something_ rose from the surface of Waj Norhal. A blinding ray of power speared towards the Thres'nalop, playing across and obliterating the rest of the enemy ships in space. He/she just stared.

Only fragments remained of the previously unstoppable Thres'nalop fleet.

A chime on his/her control panel told of an incoming message. He/she activated it. Reports trickling in from the surface told the same story: the battle for Waj Norhal was over.


	18. Chapter 17: Resolution

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 17: Resolution**

* * *

Szcraa found her lover slumped on the scorched ground, unconscious amid the rocky and churned soil. After decimating the Thres'nalop fleet, he had led one final, desperate charge against the Thres'nalop hordes. After the Thres'nalop on the plain were destroyed, he had fallen over, the strain of his heroic trials finally catching up to him.

Every last Thres'nalop on Waj Norhal was dead. The Terran artillery, in conjunction with she, Straas and the defending forces, had routed the Thres'nalop.

She kneeled down next to Straas prone form and noticed how he had changed. _Yet again_... She stroked his right arm delicately. The limb, from the forearm down, was a dull gold, with streaks and specks of silver running through them. Straas' closed eyes held a peaceful look, one that had not had since the beginning of the Thres'nalop encounter. She planted a soft kiss on his crest. Szcraa picked his sleeping form off the ground, and moved to a more comfortable spot. She noticed a soft-looking patch of soil not too far away. Gently, she lowered Straas to the soil. Then she sat down, exhausted. She wanted to go to sleep, but she somehow could not.

She looked up into the sky. The remaining carriers and Arbiters of the Gray Shadow Fleet were descending towards the surface in fiery entry trials. She hoped they had comfortable beds...

* * *

Straas opened his eyes. Dimly, he saw the form of Szcraa bending over him. Feeling groggy still, he sat up. His body felt _drained_ of energy, and the act of raising his upper body fatigued him. He saw Szcraa kneeling down next to him. A tight hug greeted his body, supporting him. Her mouth met his, and they kissed.

She spoke, her voice sounding wonderful to his ears.

"Straas, you defeated the Thres'nalop. Ulreathan is no more."

"What... where..." he mumbled, still too exhausted to form words.

"Hush. It's over now," she whispered.

"How long... have I been out?" he asked.

"For nearly three days already, Straas. Sleep now, and let your body rest."

She kissed him again, this time on his crest. He drifted off into slumber again.

* * *

Szcraa let her mate sleep, then rose and left their room. The carrier _Phantasm_ was on the ground, with Traenid/Esralath meeting with the Terran officials and leaders. She grabbed a large platter of meat from the eating room. She was still ravenous, even more than before. And she still did not know why... As suddenly as her hunger, she heard the murmur of some disembodied voices in her head. She shook her head, and the voices left.

As she exited the carrier, she gazed over the surface of Waj Norhal. The surface was _ruined_. There was simply no other way to describe it. Even the battered soil of Sawea was in better condition that this. The Terrans could not hope to survive here. With nothing to do, a thought came to her mind. She turned and headed south, towards the research facility that had been the birthplace of her and Straas.

* * *

He dreamed.

_He saw a lush world spread before him. He began to walk, taking the beauty of the green world. Suddenly, a voice behind him made him stop._

_"Straas!"_

_He whirled around, and saw the forms of two Dark Templar striding towards him. They preceded a group of Protoss, in various dress. He recognized the faces of the two leaders. Thralen and Xavan._

_"Straas, we wanted to say goodbye. It is no longer right for us to stay on this astral plain," said the elder Dark Templar. "We hope our power may serve you well. Farewell."_

_One by one, the Protoss in the group dispersed into smoke, until only Xavan and his son stood before Straas. He looked into the two Protoss' eyes. _

_"We hope your lives may be full and healthy, Straas. We wish you and Szcraa well. Goodbye," Thralen said._

_"Wait!" He said to the two. "There is one thing you must do before you leave."_

_He turned to Xavan. "I'm sure your daughter would like to see you one last time."_

_Esralath's father just looked into his eyes._

_"She would want that. I too would like to see her one last time. Now, farewell, Straas." They disappeared in a puff of mist. Straas was alone in his dream world_.

* * *

She came up to the compound of her birth, and gazed at it. There were no guards. Of course not. The marines had been too busy with the Thres'nalop to bother defending this research facility.

She vaulted over the barbed-wire fence and went past the disabled turrets. Empty bunkers loomed at the side of the blast doors leading to the entrance. She opened the door, using her lock picking software, and went into the darkened interior.

The place seemed deserted, and no power seemed to be running. Lack of light was no problem to her, though. She went up and down the corridors for a half hour, until she found something interesting. One section of the abandoned compound still had power running to it. Frowning, and scythes extended, she crept towards the room. Opening it, she discovered she discovered a powered room, run by two humming generators.

A large screen was placed at the wall opposite the door, with a computer underneath it. Unsure, she booted up the computer. It asked her for a password. A sentence popped into her mind, uncalled by her brain. _Love will always_. Frowning, she typed that into the console, and the computer whirred.

Cassandra Govalich's face projected onto the large screen.

"Hello Szcraa. I'm assuming you are here alone, since your section of the password was invoked. This here room is my little secret. I'm glad it was kept that way for you to get at.

"I knew one of the engineers of this place. He helped me keep this room secret." The face paused, then grew grave. Govalich's voice was softer now, more serious.

"This is an extremely overused phrase, but, if you are seeing this, then I am probably dead. And in a way, I am glad for that. I sinned too much against you and Straas to be allowed to live. You and Straas are _unique_, Szcraa, more unique than anything ever to exist in the galaxy."

_She obviously has not seen the Thres'nalop_, thought Szcraa.

"You are not only Zerg and machine, you two. You are much more. You are a mix of Protoss, Zerg, and yes, _Terran_."

Szcraa recoiled. _What?_

"That was not part of my orders from Thanian, but I disobeyed. I did not want you two to be mere slaves to a tyrannical, xenophobic emperor and his pet scientist. You are much more than anything ever encountered, Szcraa.

"You have the steel, the inherent might, of the Zerg. The spirit, the pure power, of the Protoss courses through you. And your soul, your mind, your _you_ is that of a Terran."

Szcraa felt weak. She sat down on the concrete floor, and simply stared at Govalich's images. _Protoss, Zerg, _and _Terran_? _What _am_ I_?

"You are not a mismatch of parts, Szcraa. Rather, you are something new and beautiful to the universe. I hope that your hidden powers have manifested themselves. Triggered correctly, you can become powerful beyond imagination. You are but one half of a powerful organism, Szcraa. You and Straas are meant for each other."

Her mind shifted to Straas, as they sparred, as they fought side by side, as they talked and held each other, as they lay in bed, entwined in each other's arms.

"But that does not matter now."

The image of Govalish smiled slowly.

"I have more things to say to you, but I think Straas should hear them too. You'll probably be very surprised."

Then the image faded from the screen. Numbly, Szcraa left the facility and headed back to the _Phantasm_.

* * *

Traenid stroked Esralath's arm, as they watched the ocean of Aiur swirl and crash on the beach. Her arm went around him. He held her tighter. Esralath's head nestled on his shoulder.

"The battles are over, finally." The Dark Templar whispered softly

"At the cost of thousands of our warriors. But the universe is safe, for now," he replied.

She was still deeply grieved; he could see that. He clutched her tighter.

"If one of my wishes could be granted in this cycle of life, I would like to see my father and brother one last time.. They died, because of..." She stopped. She broke the embrace and sat down on the sand. Traenid sat down next to her, and put an arm around her. They just held each other for a long time. Suddenly, his sharp sense of hearing caught sand grains being shifted by feet. He whirled around. And gasped.

"Some wishes do come true, sister," said Thralen, from behind them. Xavan was at his son's side.

Esralath as up before Traenid could look down at her. Xavan's daughter sprinted to the two Dark Templars, and embraced them in a tight hug. He caught up seconds later, keeping a distance. _This is between them_. Esralath's eyes misted with Protoss tears.

"Father... how?" she questioned.

"We paid a visit to Straas. He thought it would be wise to see you before we depart this astral plane," said Esralath's father, a small grin arching his eyes..

Esralath looked ready to protest, but resigned herself to silence.

"I am sorry father. I... I... _Killed you_," she sobbed.

"Perhaps it was for the better, daughter," whispered Xavan "If we had not died, Straas could not have gained his Nova powers, and all would have been lost.

"Mistakes and misjudgments occur in our lives, Esralath, but what distinguishes the good beings from the evil is how they use them. You used yours in the best way possible, daughter."

Xavan took her arm and led her to Traenid.

"You are now part of a Gray Archon, Esralath. You are much more than a married couple; much, much more. Be with each other, and be guardians of all life."

Esralath's father turned to him.

"And you, Traenid, you have helped my daughter through her ordeal. While you are not quite a son-in-law, you are as much a son as Thralen is. May the gods keep you and watch over you.

"Farewell."

In a burst of smoke and mist, the two Dark Templars disappeared.

At their departure, Esralath hugged him and wept. But her tears were not those of sorrow; they were tears of joy.

* * *

Straas followed his lover into the facility. Szcraa had told him everything that Govalich had said. He still could not quite get over his genetic heritage, though.

They entered the room with the computer, and were prompted for a password. He looked puzzled, at Szcraa.

"What's the first phrase that comes to your mind, love?" she asked.

"It's... 'Triumph over the dark'," he said, still feeling puzzled.

Szcraa typed that into the computer, along with the phrase _Love will always_. It whirred. Then Govalich's countenance appeared on the projector screen.

"Since this particular password was invoked, I'll gather you two are much more than friends now."

Straas smiled and draped an arm over Szcraa's shoulders. His golden, right arm grasped Szcraa's hand.

"Now to the important issue. Since this message is scripted to correspond to different passwords, I'll assume you two were a little... intimate."

He chuckled a little.

"And I'm also assuming Szcraa, that you have been feeling a little hungry lately, and have gained a bit weight. That thing is normal."

Straas chuckled this time, but to himself. Szcraa was a good 13.0012 kilos heavier than when they had first fled this compound. She still had a lithe aspect to her, though. Szcraa was slightly touchy on the subject.

"All mothers-to-be get hungry and heavy during pregnancy."

If a Thres'nalop darkblade had popped out of the wall and transformed into Ulreathan, it would scarcely have caused greater shock. Szcraa made a strange sound in the back of her throat, a combination of a choke and a gasp. He just dropped both his jaws. They turned and looked in each other's eyes, both their jaws hanging open. Under any other situation, they would have found it hilarious.

"Yes, I know it's a shock," said the image of Govalich, after a pause. "But it's true. That what makes you more than what you appear to be. I'm also sorry for your misleading programming and datafiles. I just thought that it would be better for you not to know, so you two wouldn't worry about it." Govalich's image smiled.

"Well, congratulations, you two."

Then the face on the screen grew serious.

"I have no way to determine what will be given life, Szcraa. It could be Zerg, or Terran, or Protoss. By God, it could even be a combination of the three. Whatever is born, I will leave it up to you. If it proves... too... too dangerous, I trust you will do the right thing. But I hope you two can raise your offspring, whatever he or she may be.

It's a dangerous world out there, Straas and Szcraa. I wish you two... three, well. I _know_ you can overcome any danger that life throws at you.

You are the steel, soul, and spirit of three powerful races. You are new to the universe, and I wish you good luck. Goodbye."

The image froze. After several seconds, the computer shut down.

He and his mate stared at each other, speechless.

* * *

Szcraa could not believe what the image of Govalich had told her. Feeling weak, she sat down on the concrete floor of the room, staring at the blank screen. _I_'_m_... _I_'_m PREGNANT?_ Now that she knew what it was, her weight gain had a plausible reason. Then questions seemed to flood her head all at once like a wave of noblades.

_I_..._ I don't have any idea what to do_. _What will it be like_? _Can me and Straas raise our_... _child_... _well_? _Will he_—_or _she—_be safe_?

"Szcraa, we'll have to figure out those questions out when our... child... is born," said Straas, reading her mind. "We will have a child... who would have known?"

She laughed a little. "I guess we _will_ just have to find out."

* * *

Traenid/Esralath felt relieved. Like the late hero, Commodore Seamus Farrel, Governor Blake Fasner had little love for the Dominion emperor. And he did not hate non-humans.

The world of Waj Norhal was a wasteland, slagged and radioactive from nuclear cannon shots, pocked by spark weapons, and corrupted by Ulreathan's dark spirit. And the wreckages of Thres'nalop sickles were too "hot", too radioactive, to be disposed of normally. The radioactivy would poison the area for years, if not decades.

"Uh... Executor. We have nowhere to go. Our world is a wasteland, and we cannot produce enough food to surive for another year. To add to that, the radioactivy of the surface is considered by my scientists to be immediately safe, but the long term effects may be deadly to us."

"What do you suggest, Governor?" he/she inquired.

The governor looked pained. Finally, he choked out, "I would like to request for the entire population of Waj Norhal be relocated to your colony world of Sawea. We have nothing left here anymore." Fasner gestured out over the ruined land. "_Nothing_."

"We will be happy to let you settle on Sawea. but, I am not sure if we can transport _everyone_, govenor. Our ships can only hold so many." He/she told Fasner. The govenor looked relieved, slightly.

"Transport shouldn't be a problem. We have scores of light freighters and small long-range scouts. And the battlecruisers _Samuel Kolinski_,_Phoenix_,_ Gargoyle_ and the destroyers _Jade Lightning_, _Tashiba Meru,_ _Fallen Angel_, _Resartus_, and _Champion_ survived, though with varying degrees of damage. And the Battlecruisers _Valiant _and the destroyers _Green Witch_, _Midas_, and _Zeus_ were ordered not to attack the Thres'nalop fleet, and are nearly undamaged. We can easily transport 85 percent of the population. And I'm hoping your ships can accomodate the rest."

Traenid/Esralath thought for a moment.

"That is perfectly fine, govenor. We should begin loading them tommorow. With the number of people still alive on the world, it would take us a week to provision and accomodate the Terrans we will be taking."

"I hope our peoples can mesh together."

"I hope so too, govenor. I hope so too."

* * *

They wandered outside the compound, deep in their own thoughts. He turned to Szcraa.

"Who would have known?" he said to his lover.

"No one," Szcraa replied.

They walked back to the Protoss encampment in silence.

* * *

"We leave in two days, with a small fleet of Terrans with us." Szcraa said to her lover. They were wandering the _Phantasm_'s corridors, hand in hand. The loading of the carrier was almost done, having started four days ago. They had passed the time by sightseeing the world.

"I wonder if they'll be able to deal with the Protoss?" she sighed.

"I'm sure they will."

They meandered down several more halls. Then Straas turned to her.

"You remember what Govalich said to us. The part about us having the 'souls of Terrans'?"

"Of course I do," she responded. She attempted to look into his mind, but Straas was shielding his thoughts from her probes."Why?"

"There's a Terran custom. As old as when Terrans still only existed on Earth. It's called... um..."

"What?" Somehow, this conversation sounded familiar.

"Well... It's called... marriage"

She let go and spun around to look him face to face.

"Are you serious?" she gasped out.

"No. I just wanted to see your face. Your spines raise up when you're surprised, you know," said Straas, his red eyes looking uncomfortable.

She ignored his comment. "Straas, were you trying to make a _proposition_ to me?"

He faltered. "Um... no.

"But now that you mention it..." He paused. "Szcraa... will you marry me?"

As soon as Straas' words reached her brain, she began to giggle. She couldn't stop. She just laughed and laughed until her sides began to hurt. After that stopped, she threw her arms around Straas and embraced him with all her strength.

"_Yes_! _Yes_!"

* * *

Traenid sighed. Esralath put an arm over him and held him tight. They were in his old, physical quarters. And they were both naked.

"Now I cannot have regrets that we did this only in our own little world..." Esralath murmured.

She had changed since her brother and father had departed. She seemed to have less... grief, less guilt. He stroked her face.

He was contented. And tired. Some muscles of his were close to cramping up too. _And this was to be _all_ fun_! _I guess some things are just less tiring in our Archon world_. But he liked the fatigue. It gave a sense of "realness" to him. And it gave an excuse for him to just lie there and hold Esralath.

A tap on the door made him sit up. He frowned. His officers on the bridge were instructed not too interrupt, and the warriors were told to direct any concerns to Deneras.

"It's Szcraa! We need to talk! Now! Please!" shouted the voice of Szcraa from behind the door.

Traenid shot a bemused look to Esralath. She just smiled thinly, and quickly put her obsidian clothes back on. Without comment, he put on his white garments, too.

He had never heard Szcraa so excited before. Never.

He opened the door, and Szcraa barreled into the room, her face full of excitement and joy. Straas, following his mate, showed less emotion, but it was evident he also excited about something.

"We... we want to get married!" Szcraa blurted out, a strange grin on her face.

They had told him—as Traenid/Esralath—about their findings at the laboratory, and of Szcraa's pregnancy. He was still surprised about their genetic origins.

"You... _What_?"

"We want to get married," said Straas, a grin growing on his face.

"That is joyous to hear," said Esralath from behind him. "I hope you two can have a happy life. When?"

"Er... That's the thing, though. We don't know how to... er, _do_ a wedding," said Szcraa.

"Oh," he and Esralath said at the same time.

"Hmm. I do not know. If you want a Terran wedding, you see them for it. If you want to be joined according to Protoss customs, you need a Judicator, a Templar, and a Khalai to be present. Oh, Dark Templar are not official, but they're needed there too.

"Well, if we do the Protoss custom, we have a Dark and a Light Templar covered, don't we," said Straas

He smiled. And he know who the Khalai and the Judicator would be.

"I am sure Khalai Rethoj would agree to this, and Judicator Akrelian, commander of the _Tassadar _would have no objections either. He was an old friend of Tarthan/Jetok," said Esralath.

"If you want it, we had better wait until the ships are en route. That way you too can... rest... after the wedding"

"Thank you, you two. Will a week from now sound good?"

"You are welcome. And a week from now sounds fine."

Smiling, the two Cyberlisks departed his room, hand in hand.

He smiled. Turning around, he saw that Esralath also had a grin on her eyes. With a little laugh, he hugged Esralath. She hugged him back just as hard.

"Those two will be happy. I know it." He said.

"I am happy too... finally." Esralath laid her head on his shoulder.

"As am I. As am I."

* * *

The week leading up to their marriage passed in a flash. Straas had never felt happier, or more excited. Then, finally, it was their date for the marriage. The four of them had agreed to hold it in one of the out-of-the way cargo bays, to keep it secret. It would be formally announced later on.

Judicator Akrelian, Khalai Rethoj, Traenid, and Esralath were present. With them were three humans. One of them he recognized; it was lieutenant Tendra McCuester. The other was man that Szcraa identified as a Major Hendrickson. The last human, an iron-haired, paunchy man, was dressed up in an odd black robe, and was carrying a thick book with him.

"Who are they?" he asked Traenid, inquisitive.

"We took the liberty of questioning some Terrans on the _Phantasm_. We found these two knew you. And the third human is what the Terrans call a religious minister. Apparently, he is the one that couples consult to be married."

"Yes. My name is Reverend Robert Williard," said the minister, giving his hand.

He and Szcraa shook it awkwardly.

"So, we get... both?" asked Straas.

"I don't see why not." said the minister.

"Well, let's get started..." Szcraa said.

"First, we need to give you some things," said Esralath.

"In Terran and Protoss customs both, the two individuals to be married exchange symbolic gifts. We decided you might like these..." explained Traenid. He reached into his clothes and drew out an ornate golden headpiece; the former Assault Commander's, in fact. Esralath also pulled out something, but it was a black armband, studded with dark crystals, also her own. He frowned. They would be much too small.

"They won't fit. They're—"

"—Rethoj has assured me that they will fit. He fixed them specifically for you," interrupted Traenid.

"Oh. Our thanks, Rethoj," said Szcraa.

"It was something small for two who have done so much," said the Khalai, bowing slightly.

"Now that everything is in place, why not start?" Said Williard.

One hour later, with her placing the headpiece onto Straas' head, and he putting the armband onto her arm, followed by the kiss, the Protoss Judicator and the Terran minister said in unison "We now pronounce you married husband and wife!"

With a roaring laugh, Straas picked her up, and danced around the room. They giggled uncontrollably for several minutes, then settled down.

"A celebration banquet for you two begins in two hours, in this hold. It will be decorated and fixed up by then," said Traenid. After a moment of thought, he added "Congratulations."

With a smirk on her face, she glanced at Straas. He has a similar look. After giving a small bow to the seven people in the hold, they walked out and dashed to their room. She and Straas had quite a different celebration there.


	19. Chapter 18: Steel, Soul, and Spirit

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Chapter 18: Steel, Soul, And Spirit**

* * *

Traenid/Esralath looked over the world of Sawea. It was recovering satisfactorily from the damage inflicted by the Thres'nalop, the burnt stretches of land turning green once more. One week ago the fleet had arrived over Sawea. 

The Terrans had unpacked and had generally gotten along with the Protoss colonists after the ships had landed a two weeks ago. Protoss-Terran relations were improving each day, and the determination of the colonists pulled them past any past prejudices.

Now, in a town tentatively christened "New Dream", gray, utilitarian Terran buildings stood side by side with golden, jewel-encrusted Protoss ones. Crops of Terran and Protoss foodstuffs were just beginning to sprout. Abundant bengalaas meat nourished Protoss and Terran alike

He/she saw a Dark Templar and a human chatting, though the human stayed away farther than was polite. He/she sighed. Small things like that would have to be overcome in the future. It was no wonder though, since in the first months of contact Protoss had sterilized Terran planets to contain the Zerg infestation. Fear had to be defeated, so the colony as a whole could prosper.

Traenid/Esralath floated off the rubble pile were he/she had been sitting, and went to the building were he/she was living currently. He/she was just about to open the entranceway, when a Protoss zealot nearly barreled into him/her.

"Executor! The Cyberlisk Straas requests you and Khalai Rethoj immediately!

"According to Straas, Szcraa is giving birth!"

* * *

She had wondered why her stomach was not feeling good. She just woke up sick in the morning, and had wobbled when she got out of bed. Straas had to help her walk out of their room. 

"Are you okay?" asked her... husband... with concern. Husband.

"I'm not sure. My—" She doubled up as her stomach cramped and expelled a good part of last night's dinner. She sank to her knees, her body seeming too heavy for her legs to support.

"You're not okay. I'll get you to Rethoj," her husband picked her up and dashed off to Rethoj's workshop. The Khalai artisan was also an experienced healer.

She vomited on him, but her spouse did not seem to notice the nasty stuff sliding down his arms.

"Rethoj!" called out Straas, urgency and fear coloring his voice. "There's something wrong with Szcraa!"

"What is it?" inquired the old Khalai as Straas barreled through the opened door.

"I don't know. She just got sick. Do you know what's wrong?"

Szcraa had never heard this sense of urgency in her mate's voice ever. Another massive cramp hit her abdomen, and she reflexively doubled up. She grunted in pain, keeping herself from screaming from the severity.

"By Adun and all the gods above. She is going into labor!"

Rethoj got unto a communicator, and said something into it. The he turned back to Straas. Szcraa felt very light-headed. _Labor_. _Ha_. _Our child can finally meet the world_.

"Put her onto the table quickly!" directed Rethoj urgently. Straas complied and placed her on a metallic worktable. Rethoj tucked blankets under her, probably to keep her comfortable. She weakly looked at Straas. He and Rethoj were talking to each other rapidly. Then she closed her eyes and blocked out the sound.

* * *

"What do you mean '_it won_'_t work'_?" he virtually screamed out. 

"I have no idea how to perform this. A group of Terran doctors and medics are on the way here to help, as well as some Khalai physicians. Combined, they could probably figure out how to deliver and sustain the child, but I don't know if it's _physically_ _possible_."

"What do you mean? It looks perfectly possible." He was scared. Scared for his wife, scared for his unborn child.

"No. Look at Szcraa's lower body. It is encased in metal. Very strong metal, if I remember correctly. If there is no passageway to the outside, how can the child get out? The opening you have for you two to mate is big enough for your needs, but it cannot fit a newborn through it!"

He just stared. _No_! _It cannot end like this_! He despaired.

Then he had an idea.

"If she can somehow shut off her auto-repair systems, and if I cut open her lower body, would that suffice?"

"Perhaps. But she might bleed to death."

"Then how... Wait! I can shut down her repair systems, then I can help her through it! We can attempt to meld, and..."

"It will not work! Protoss have spent centuries attempting to do just that! And we have had no major breakthroughs!"

"By God," he growled, "it _will_ work. It has to!"

The Khalai looked resigned. "We will try to do that. But there can be no guarantees that they will both survive."

That was all he needed. With a nod, he accessed Szcraa's system commands, and toggled the scripts that enabled her repair systems. After shutting them down, he moved to where Szcraa lay on her back. He made a little scratch with his claw on her leg. It did not begin to repair.

He nodded to Rethoj.

"By Adun, I hope this works," whispered the Khalai.

* * *

The four doctors, three medics, and six Kahalis crowded around the table, watching him as he extended his right scythe. Carefully, he began to slice into Szcraa's metal lower body. After fifteen minutes of straining work, he had peeled back the metal and exposed flesh. The metal made a slight ripping sound as it tore away from her flesh. A gush of rich red blood began to flow out of her body. 

Quickly, he left her lower body and went to where her head lay. Szcraa had a look of extreme agony on her face, and her face twitched but she was amazingly quiet.

He reached down and gently took her head in his hands. He focused, and tried to meld his mind with hers. He concentrated as hard as he ever had, even harder then when he had battled Ulreathan.

He nearly growled in frustration. He was getting nowhere.

Then it happened. He entered a mind-meld with Szcraa.

Together, they concentrated, and ordered the capillaries and arteries in the opened region to slow the flow of blood. He had little time; the undernourished tissue would begin to die in only an hour.

Together, they concentrated to help push the child out. As the child left Szcraa's birth canal, he knew something was not right. He detected not one, but _two_ others still inside his wife. Straas concentrated again, and helped Szcraa through it, giving her strength to draw on. As he felt Szcraa's muscles clench, and the last child exit her body, he reactivated her auto-repair systems, and slumped to the floor.

* * *

Szcraa was not quite sure what had happened. She felt not one, but _three_ beings leave her body. She heard the murmur of the people gathered around her grow when the last child exited, but she could not understand. Three squalling cries broke out, almost simultaneously. She slipped into unconsciousness, escaping the lingering pain.

* * *

Straas awoke, and saw Szcraa lying peacefully on the table, wrapped in various fabrics. Her lower body was in the process of healing, and the blood that had spurted out was still wet. His wife was breathing steadily and slowly. 

He noticed that one of the Terran doctors was holding a small bundle, a Protoss physician another, and Executor Traenid/Esralath the third. Except for he, his wife, the Executor, andthe two physicians, the hold was empty.

"Are they okay? All of them?" he asked."

"Yes. But I think you had better look at them for yourself..." went the Terran doctor, his face a mixture of shock, amazement, fear, and wonder.

He went to the Terran holding the bundle, and took it gently from him.

"Support his head," instructed the doctor.

_Ah_!_ A son_. He looked into barely opened blue eyes. Green eyes... _Terran _green eyes...

The son he was holding looked like... a Terran infant!

It had the same shaped body as one would expect from a newborn, but he noticed subtle differences. The skin was slightly off the normal Terran shade, a little too blue, and the little tufts of hair growing out of his head seemed strange, too thick and pointy. He noticed something with the wrists too. Some type of bony object seemed to stick out of the skin, flat against the child's wrist. The he realized that it must be a scythe.

The newborn squirmed a bit, made a gurgling noise, and then fell asleep. Without a sound, he handed his son back to one of the Terran doctors.

Numbly, he walked over to the Protoss physician. The physician nodded, and gave the bundle to him. He unwrapped the infant.

This one looked like a Protoss, and it was also a boy. Like his first son, he detected small discrepancies. The skin seemed a little too reddish brown, different from the usual Protoss coloration. The elongated head seemed normal, until he saw that it was slightly flattened at the back. The start of brown Protoss tresses were beginning to grow. The body of the infant seemed thicker than usual, but he had never seen a Protoss infant before, so he was not sure of the norm. He also noticed that the infant had strange shaped feet. They were not the shape of the knobby Protoss limbs, but of a shape similar to his own foot. Again, like his first son, the Protoss child had small, bony, retracted scythes on his wrists. While he had been holding him, his son had not moved.

"That is normal. Protoss newborns are very sedate at birth," explained the Protoss after taking back the newborn. Then the Protoss flinched. This was anything but normal.

He just nodded to the physician, unable to summon words.

Straas strode over to the Executor. He gave the Archon a questioning look.

"It would be better if you saw yourself, without me saying anything. You might be surprised, however," said Traenid/Esralath/

Taking the last bundle from the Gray Archon, he started. Staring out from the blankets was the face and head of a...

He gasped.

...Fully organic Cyberlisk.

With a feeling of surprise he unwrapped his... daughter.

She looked like a completely organic Cyberlisk, complete with two double-jointed legs, a glossy, spiny crest, a tail, and a gold hued carapace. Blue streaked her flank. Her belly was colored off-white, and he could plainly see the chest joints that housed the needle spines, whether or not they were Magna Needles. Of course, like his two sons, his daughter had a scythe laid flat on her wrist. The newborn opened her eyes slightly.

Her eyes were a deep blue, with a lighter blue iris. Almost Terran shaped, and with a similar structure of a Terran eyeball. He wanted to wake up Szcraa and show her _their_ daughter, but he stopped himself. _The other two are my children too_. _Just because they look like a Protoss or Terran should not mean I should love them less_.

Carefully, he balanced his daughter on his arms, and then collected the other two from the Terran and the Protoss. Moving slowly, he walked to where Szcraa lay. Using his tail, he prodded her awake. She opened her eyes, moaned, and attempted to sit up. He gently kept her from doing so.

"We have triplets, love," he said softly. "Two sons and one daughter."

Szcraa's eyes shot open, and she tilted her head to see the bundles he was carrying. Smiling, he let Szcraa hold their daughter.

"Do they all look like her?" asked Szcraa, cradling their daughter.

"No."

"What?"

"This might take some time to explain... not mention getting used to."

* * *

"I guess Govalich wasn't very sure what would happen when she did some gene-mixing, no?" Szcraa said to her husband, holding the Protoss-son now. 

"Obviously," he answered, cradling the other two. "They're beautiful."

"Yes they are. They're _our_ children. I could care less how they looked, be they Protoss, Zerg, or Terran."

They were in Terran built room, furnished by grateful Terran and Protoss families. It was one of three inside a compact house. The Protoss and Terrans had given implements for caring for children, and some humans and Protoss and volunteered to teach her and Straas about child rearing. For their daughter, they trusted their own instincts to know how to raise her.

"We have to give them names." Straas said suddenly, looking up.

" I know. But what? What type of names? Terran names? Protoss names? Zerg... names?"

"I don't know. It'll come to us in time."

"I guess so... Straas, can you hold her for an hour?" She held out their daughter to him. "I want to sleep." She still felt tired. Going through a near-death experience and a birth at the _same_ time could drain _anyone_.

"Of course. Rest up."

"Thank you, Straas," she gave him a kiss, then went into the bedroom. She lied down and fell asleep.

* * *

_"What..." She rubbed her head._

_Somehow, she was on a beach on Sawea. It was nearing dusk, with the orange sun falling down over the horizon. Oily waves lapped at the shore._

_She heard crunching behind her. She whirled around, and saw Straas walking down to her. She stood in place, not able to move. Her husband stopped a couple meters away from her. She looked in puzzlement._

_Straas' form shifted. Then seemed to melt._

_She watched in horror as Straas transformed into Ulreathan._

_"Amusing that I encounter you here, abomination. What has your mate been up to... Now your husband? You mock everything that you try to imitate. Your very life is a mockery."_

_She felt hot rage rise within her._

_"And yours is not?" she replied. "You corrupt yourself for a perverse power, and _I _am the abomination?"_

_Then she caught herself._

_"Why am I arguing with you? You're dead, incinerated. Nothing but your legacy of death lives on."_

_Ulreathan's formerly Protoss eyes curled up into a mocking sneer. "That's what you think, Szcraa. Only my physical body has been eliminated. My spirit lives on. And do not think I will stay in this state permanently. I will fashion a new body, and I will come back for you, your consort abomination, and all non-Thres'nalop life in this universe."_

_Impossibly, The Blademaster's sneer grew more cruel._

_"And even your children are not safe. I will have great pleasure in eviscerating them."_

_With a snarl of rage, Szcraa leaped at Ulreathan, intent on ripping his foul head off. Just as her claws connected with his head, the Blademaster dissolved into black smoke. A horrible cackle hung on the wind._

_She sunk to her knees in the sand and cried in rage and fear.

* * *

_

Straas shook his wife awake. He had left the children in their separate cradles.

"Szcraa! Wake up! Szcraa!"

With a cry, she woke up. Her eyes had a look of horror in them, and her arms shook as she held his arms.

"Szcraa! What's wrong. What did you _see_?" He knew that Szcraa's dreams had great significance to them.

"_Ulreathan_!"

* * *

Traenid/Esralath looked seriously at the two Cyberlisks. They were in his/her housing structure, in one of the larger rooms. 

The couple had left their children in care of Terran and Protoss babysitters, but they had brought their daughter with them. They had still not come up with names yet, but it would come to them.

Traenid/Esralath got his/her mind back on track. The appearance of Ulreathan in Szcraa's dream had just created a problem. And the former Judicator's plans for the future could cause great danger for the universe if they could be carried out.

"What can we do? I have to take the fleet back to Shakuras." He/she told the two.

"No, you don't. If the Council found out what had happened..." trailed off Szcraa.

"What can I do? I must report back to the Council."

"This no longer deals with just the Protoss, or the Terran, of the Zerg. This deal with _all_ life in the universe. We have to take immediate action. Ulreathan is somewhere now, growing stronger and getting ready to make another assault on the universe. And I don't think that the Thres'nalop fleet that we defeated was the only one. There are more out there. I know it. And neither the Protoss, nor the Terran, are ready to know of the horror of the Thres'nalop," said Straas.

"I know. But... I cannot. I fully believe in what you have told me, but this colony, this first ever Protoss-Terran colony, is still weak. I cannot leave them. And if I cannot lead..." He/she cut off as a thought occurred to him/her.

_"Will the Protoss and Terran respect it?"_

_"I do not know. Will _they_ accept it?"_

"Straas. Will you take my place as Executor of the fleet?"

Straas' mouth dropped open. It looked comical, with his jaw hanging down, and his mandibles splayed out.

"What? Are you serious?"

"Yes."

Szcraa touched her husband's arm. He looked his wife in her eyes. They looked as if they were speaking to each other via commlink.

"No, I can't! It would not be right," grunted out Straas, switching back to speaking.

"Our existence, and our children's existence, is not 'right,' to Ulreathan. If there is no one to stop him, how can anyone be safe?"

"Why not Deneras? He was your helmsman on the _Phantasm_."

"Deneras has great respect for you Straas. While I respect him greatly, he does not have the abilities and intelligence you do. And I know he would follow you if you accept. You saved the entire fleet, not to mention an entire planet, from certain destruction. I do not know of anyone who is not grateful toward you."

"But... but... I'm Zerg. I've—" He got cut off as Szcraa struck him in the face with a fist. Straas' eyes flew open in shock, as Szcraa's eyes narrowed in anger.

"Don't you dare say that again!" she snapped. "We've been through this before. You are not a Zerg. Genetically yes; so am I. But you are not _a _Zerg. You are a heroic, powerful, loving _person_." Szcraa's eyes softened. "But you are passing up a great opportunity, Straas. Ulreathan has to be stopped. At all costs."

Straas' eyes seemed to cloud with a... pain. Then they cleared.

"Executor. I accept. I will take your place as Executor."


	20. Epilogue: The Alliance Fleet

**_STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT_**

By

Gregory P. Wong

* * *

**Epilogue: The Alliance Fleet

* * *

**

Straas looked over the compound. Newly trained Protoss and Terran warriors, all volunteers, were assembled. _I am _Executor_ Straas_. _Even three months later_,_ it still feels unusual_.

Szcraa stood behind him on and to his left, holding Stanton and Kitheran. Yysthre stood next to her mother, wobbling slightly on unsteady legs. With a squeak, she lost her balance and plopped down on her tail. She tried to get back onto her feet, couldn't, and quickly lost interest in standing. She just sat there and played with Szcraa's tail. He smiled to himself. Their children had shown remarkably fast development...

The fleet was months from departing Sawea. The Protoss and Terran scientists had shown a remarkable synergy, their combined brainpower blazing their technology forward at impossible speed. New classes of capital ships were being churned out at the orbital carriers and the remaining Terran ships. Powerful ships, with new weapons and top-notch Protoss shields. The ground forces were also greatly strengthened. He hoped their technology could match the Thres'nalop. Looking over the recruits, he opened a commlink that was tied in to a large speaker system surrounding the complex.

"Loved ones, of both races, have fallen to the horror of the Thres'nalop and Ulreathan. We have been united by this experience, united in a hope for an end to this shadow." He painfully remembered the Protoss souls he had absorbed.

"This shadow is not easy to extinguish, and many of you will lose your lives in the struggle. We go out as outcasts, unable to even communicate our findings with our homeworlds. They cannot know; they are not ready to know of the horror.

"There is no middle ground. The Thres'nalop do not take pleas of surrender. They seek to kill, and wipe all sentient life from this universe. Their technology is powerful, their warriors are strong." The faces of many of the young warriors shone with grim pride.

"Whatever the difficulties and dangers we face, we have strength. We have the strength of our very diversity and culture. Terran and Protoss strengths are _our_ strengths. Terran and Protoss weaknesses are _our_ weaknesses. We have to aid each other, lest the shadow consumes us as we stand alone. We are as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided.

"We are united against a consuming darkness. We stand united. Together we will triumph, or together we will fall. In one more month we will depart his world, and begin our battle of light. We will defeat the Thres'nalop, or we will die trying.

"The shadow will not stand up to us if we remain true to each other. Nothing can stand up to us, if our alliance holds. We _must_ hold together. Whether you be Terran or Protoss, we are all part of an alliance. An alliance of light.

"We are the Alliance Fleet. Nothing can stand in our way."


End file.
